Waking Nightmare
by suspensegirl
Summary: Post 4x04; Canadian & US promos included - 'She looked into the mirror & saw ugly, not enough, worthless. There was no one in the bathroom to stop her.' - the after effects of Chuck's declaration of war. EXTREME ANGST.
1. Stone Cold Teardrops

A/N: I'd like to say GG/CB couldn't possibly get any worse, but it's been proving me wrong since coming back from Paris, so I better not waste my breath. From what I've seen and what I know will come, I honestly cannot say I even know where Chuck's heart is. It certainly didn't go with Eva, but that's another story. This is definitely going to be my most angsty fic yet, and I don't even know if it's gonna have a happy ending. That's how depressed I am. *sigh* Should be a 3 part, maybe more, but I want to get it done before the next episode, so probably not. Please review.

*I own nothing. No copyright infringement intended.

…

**Ch.1—Stone Cold Teardrops **

The sound of water spraying abruptly stopped. Her wet hands moved away from the sink and grappled for paper towels. She was breathing heavily, sweat beads popping out on her forehead. She looked up into the mirror and saw _ugly_. She saw _not enough_. She saw _worthless_. She turned away from her despicable polished reflection and looked at the three empty bathroom stalls. No one else was in the bathroom. It was quiet in the halls. Her big party had gone up in flames. The only person still hanging around the vicinity was probably Chuck Bass. She had never been so scared of him in her life. She'd dreaded having certain conversations with him before, afraid of being more heartbroken afterwards than she'd been before. But now she was just scared of him. She'd never seen this side of him before, nobody had. It was as if he wasn't even human.

She took a step back away from the sink, her heel clacking on the tiled floor, then the other one. Her cheeks were stained with the couple tears she'd been unable to keep inside. This was only the beginning, she told herself. It would get worse, and the only way she'd survive was if she fought back. But she couldn't fight back. She didn't want to hurt him. She'd hurt him with Eva, and now she didn't even know why. She was convinced she didn't love him. In front of him, it was instinct to say. The eerie stirring on the hairs at the nape of her neck when he was around now though…it only spelt for disaster.

The door opened. It was too late for her to go and lock the door, scurry into one of the empty stalls and purge. It'd been so long since she'd given in to the temptation. She hadn't felt the need to do so since Chuck had come into her life, since they'd really been together. A few times it had happened when he'd disappeared after his father's funeral, but that had been it. She wouldn't let herself cave in again. She _wouldn't_.

She heard heels clacking behind her, heading towards the stalls. A brief smile flicked to her from the woman who'd entered the room. Blair took a deep breath, grabbed her clutch and whisked out the door. For a long comfortable moment she was relieved. There was no one outside the bathroom in the hallway. Serena had left long ago, thankfully Chuck hadn't driven a wedge between them yet. The party was over. Nearly everyone was gone. She was free to get back home and lie her head in her best friend's lap. At the moment, nothing else seemed better. Fate was, however, extremely unkind to her it seemed. The villain in her life walked casually towards her, a lazy red scarf draped loosely around his neck.

"Waldorf." He gave her a once over. She saw the disappointment, the disapproval, the disgust in his eyes. _Ugly. Not enough. Worthless_. "Good party," he mused, glancing around the empty hallway and empty room just a breath away.

Her eyes narrowed. "Thanks to _you_." He blinked innocently.

"I declared war…" he said, as if it explained everything. Smoothly, he snuck her purse out of her hands.

"And I declare a _truce_," she said, snatching her purse right back. His mouth opened in what might have been surprise but was far from it.

"That's not how it works," he said. He leaned forward until he was a breath away. "The war's over when one of us wins, and that one of us is going to be me."

Her lips pursed tightly, forming an angry pout. Once upon a time he had called her cute when she was mad. Then, she'd smack him with either her purse or a pillow. Then, they'd have hot sex, right there in the middle of the room, because she could never stay mad at him for long. She always forgave him eventually. She blinked madly, erasing the memory. Chuck was already several feet away, clearly on his way to leaving the premises.

"Have a good night, Waldorf." She watched him as he walked away, unable to think of anything to say. He stopped just before exiting into the adjoining room. "On second thought, don't." He smiled, his lips forming into a deceiving, mischievous, hateful grin. "I would like nothing more than to see you suffer."

She sank down on a chair thankfully sitting against the wall in the hallway. If she had not had something to steady her right then, she would have collapsed on the floor. Her hands, arms, legs, all of her was trembling. There was not one part of her body that was pushing her to keep going. She swallowed hard, and closed her eyes, her head leaning back against the wall. The large hall would be open for hours, she gathered. It was safe to sit here and calm herself for hours.

It occurred to her that a glass of water might be helpful in getting through the night. She didn't dare attempt a walk back to the bathroom though. The temptation would be too great, even if that woman was still in there. She wouldn't be in there long and then she'd be done for. She had to resist. She couldn't let Chuck destroy her. She'd told him he'd never be able to destroy her. _Was he trying to prove her wrong?_ No. He was avenging Eva, that French floozy who'd managed to turn him into a do-gooder philanthropist over night, one who could care less about _her_ or their history. It pained her to hear him talk about Eva as if she had changed him, as if she hadn't been part of the process at all. Didn't _she_ save him from falling – no, _jumping_ – to his death on the rooftop of Victrola? Didn't she give him a reason to believe in himself so he wouldn't fall off the deep end again and again? Wasn't it _her_ who forgave him for all his wrongs, even the ones that should have sent him to some emotional prison for life? Wasn't it _her_ he was going to _propose_ to on the top of the Empire State building because he wanted to _marry_ her, because all of the good that was in him was because of _her_?

A tear dribbled down her cheek, followed by another and another. Had it all been a dream? A horribly awful wonderfully amazing dream? A nightmare? She blinked more tears away when she heard the bathroom door open and close. The woman didn't acknowledge her, probably didn't see her. It didn't matter. She stood to her feet, very unsteadily and made her way to the door. She opened her purse to retrieve her phone. She'd text – maybe call – Serena, and tell her she was coming home. They'd watch Tiffany's and eat macaroons to their hearts content. Tomorrow would be better. It had to be.

But she didn't find her phone. The basshole had stolen it. She sighed in frustration, almost throwing her purse to the ground. It would be too hard to pick it up again though. She'd fall. She wouldn't get up again, the emotional trauma from everything Chuck would be too much for her to think logically long enough to put her thoughts together for such a strenuous activity as standing to her feet from a crumple position on the floor.

She would have to see him again, she realized. She couldn't risk him stabbing her in the back again tonight. It would be too much for her senses, even if he didn't care what happened to her anymore, even if he decided he didn't have a heart, especially in regards to her. She didn't think she'd ever have enough strength to fight back. But, she had to get her phone back, and that would mean more heartbreak, more self esteem falling into the dust just to get him to rest for the night. She shook violently for a long moment before miraculously trudging outside. Her limo was thankfully waiting for her. She didn't have to hail a cab, and try to explain why she had no cash on her minus a stash of ones. Chuck had taken all the rest too. She had been oblivious to his actions in her hurt anger. Those circumstances always proved to be the perfect ones to make her victim to his attacks.

…

"So, you decided to come fetch your phone," he said casually, watching as she walked into the room. He noticed that she was now carrying her heels in her hands. He was probably wondering if she'd walked there, she thought hatefully. He was no doubt enjoying that possibility even if he knew that was a ridiculous assumption. She wouldn't sink that low, even if she was afraid that she would be sinking lower and lower as the days went on. If he continued on in this war until he was satisfied she was hurting just as much as he'd been hurt, she feared for her own self control.

"I've had enough back-stabbing for one night," she told him snidely.

"It's on the table," he said absently, gesturing off handedly to the other side of the room. She moved across the room in a tired rush and gathered the device in her hand. She could not get into it. He had put a lock on it – a new password. She turned around and looked at him, annoyed.

"You put a lock on my phone?"

He shrugged. "It won't be hard for you to figure out, I'm sure."

She scoffed and slipped it into her purse. She'd deal with it in the morning, and whatever other surprises he'd purposefully stuffed into the device, along with whatever other demise he planned to give her.

"Great," she muttered, walking back to the elevator. Then, she stopped, cursing herself for sporadically deciding to talk to him again.

"When is this going to stop, Chuck?"

He looked amused, and continued to sit on the couch positioned almost in the center of the room. She continued to look at him, halfway between annoyed and on the verge of another burst of heartbreak.

"You already ruined the party, one that would have given me significant status at Columbia, with a high-ranking professor and my peers. Not to mention you managed to get Serena out of the vicinity by at least a block, so I'd have no one to run to when I was inevitably embarrassed worse than I'd been in a long time." She started walking towards him. He was actually smirking as she continued on, but she wouldn't stop until she was sure he was well aware of all the hurt he caused and how it was breaking her, regardless if he enjoyed that prospect or not. "On top of that, you managed to get one of our conversations taped and sent in to gossip girl, selecting only the certain parts that would declare me some sort of twisted lesbian in a sex scandal." She paused briefly, catching her breath. He continued to look amused. "Are you happy now?"

"Not even close."

She shook her head and looked away momentarily. "I'm sorry for what happened with Eva, okay? I didn't mean for her to leave. I just wanted the two of you to break up."

"To hurt me," he said.

"No," she said quickly.

"There's no other possibility, Blair. You've already told me in your most emotional heart-wrenching way that you don't love me anymore. If you can hurt me to make sure I'm not happy, then I have equal right to do the same."

She choked up some air in disbelief. She shook her head rapidly. "Have you no limits?" Her arm flew to her side, frustration welling up inside her. She ignored his threat of war, declaring that there would be no limits. He'd been furious at the time and had only been feeding the angry emotion from that moment on surely, but there had to be some part of him that still felt for her.

He stood to his feet and walked towards her. "Who knows what my limits are?" he said airily, sounding quite sure of himself. "I'm not going to stop until you have nothing."

Her lips parted. Fear and extreme hurt welled up in her eyes. Her eyebrows scrunched up a little, trying to stomach his words. _Was this really the Chuck she knew?_ He'd never been particularly _good_, but he'd never been this bad, and certainly not to her. Even if she did still love him and was ready to tell him, regardless of where it led, she couldn't tell him now. She couldn't explain how isolated and disregarded she'd felt during his entire relationship with Eva. She couldn't do anything anymore because of how heartless he'd become. She couldn't even tell him that he was a good man before that just made some awful mistakes and didn't learn from them.

It took her a long time to step away from him, to steady herself so she wouldn't cry. She couldn't show any more emotion. She _couldn't_. She couldn't be weak in his eyes. That would only give him more ammunition to hurt her. She took a deep breath and eventually turned away, heading for the elevator.

"It's going to get worse if you don't start fighting back, Blair," he told her cockily. She turned her head to him as the elevator doors chimed, allowing her access to her freedom. He was smirking.

"You have nothing to lose," she said. "It's going to get worse either way."

She couldn't stand to look at him anymore. She closed her eyes and waited for the doors to close, which thankfully they did. Her hands trembled, just as they'd done almost every second for the last hour. She crumbled on the floor of the elevator. She imagined him watching the surveillance cameras in the elevators and laughing at her demise. She was _so_ broken, and she was the only one to blame. She'd been the one that had begged him to come back. He'd told her it wouldn't be easy, but she'd pushed aside like that didn't matter. Nothing mattered more to her than him. Despite the fact that she might move on and succeed in life, she couldn't imagine her life without him. It seemed too painful to even contemplate. Yet, here she was broken all because of him. And she'd asked for it. She'd asked for him to ignore her, move on, act as if what they had had been nothing worth remembering or valuing. She'd asked for him to torture her. She'd asked for it all.

Self-hatred was the only way to get through this, she was sure, and she indulged it in when she had to.

_"No one will ever measure up to what we had."_

She started crying. All his declarations of love swam through her head. He'd always fought so hard for her, and she'd forgiven him for his transgressions every. time. _Did falling out of love with him mean he had to stop fighting for her?_ He'd slept with Jenny because he thought she didn't love him. But there was no possible way she'd believe for a second that he would have given Eva up for her. Eva, the prostitute turned saint, Chuck the womanizer turned philanthropist. The perfect couple, and her left alone in the past and in the darkness. She'd never felt so…_ugly. not enough. worthless_.

Serena would stop her from relapsing tonight. But she didn't know what she'd do every night after that. Chuck had, in the blink of an eye, become someone she'd never seen before. He somehow had the capability to hurt her even more now, worse than she'd ever been hurt before. But, she still loved him. It was as if she'd always be connected to a murderer, one that now would not hesitate in cutting her to pieces. The police would never find her dead body.

….

A/N: Omg. That was SO hard to write. You've got no idea. I mean, usually when I write painful stuff, I can somehow step out of it because I'm in control of what'll happen, so I can sort of separate myself from it while still maintaining good writing skills. Heh. But wow. Definitely torturous. The things I had Chuck do to her and coming straight off the promos, American & Canadian, heh, along with a few of the lines from the last scene. Hope you enjoyed the angst? Lol. More to come. Hold on. It's gonna get even more depressing.

*Oh, and if you couldn't guess, the last couple lines were meant to be metaphorical. ;p


	2. Drugging Temptation

A/N: Wow. I don't think I've ever gotten this many story alerts after just one chapter. It's insane how good of a response I got from you guys, and definitely more than enough incentive for me to update so soon. =) I really want this to be done before the next episode…but I'm definitely going to miss getting such a great response. Heh. We'll see how many chapters I do. I'm gonna try to stick to my initial goal of 3. Read on.

*I own nothing. No copyright infringement intended.

…

**Ch.2—Drugging Temptation**

_ihateyou_

The password was not that hard to figure out, just as he'd told her, but it still shook her to the core. The turn of events had kept her from sleeping through most of the night. Amongst all the other disasters from the other day before, she was reminded of Serena's downfall via Gossip Girl blast when she returned that night. Apparently her best friend had not had it easy throughout the day either. Blair decided to keep her mouth shut about her transactions with Chuck. Serena had asked if anything had happened, but she'd somehow pulled off a shrug, saying something was sure to come soon but nothing more had happened that evening. Complete lies of course, but denial worked pretty well for Blair Waldorf. She was convinced it would work just as well this time.

She had no classes today. It was a relief. She didn't doubt that Columbia was going to be Chuck's most direct target. And something inside her was suggesting very heavily that _Chuck_ had been the one to send out the blast about Serena. He was trying to tear her apart, and he knew just how to do it. He knew her. That made everything worse. She wished there was at least one thing he didn't know about her, something that would give her some sort of leverage against him, just to defend herself. But there was only one thing he didn't know, and she wasn't about to tell him. She was still trying to decide if it was true or not. Besides, in a matter of speaking, it was the same thing she didn't know about him anymore.

She peeled the silk blankets off of her and slipped out of bed. Serena had left a couple of hours earlier, at nine am. It was unusual for the brunette to stay in bed for so long, but nothing seemed safe anymore. Another memory threatened to engulf her from the day before. She gripped the sheets tightly as she stood to her feet. Slowly, she managed to cross the room without stumbling. It was a miracle, she thought. She was so shaky and she hated it. _What was wrong with her?_ She'd been at war with Chuck before. She hadn't always won, but she'd taken him down ruthlessly nonetheless. The only difference was that she didn't want to hurt him, and he was going to do everything possible to drag her down into the pit of hell.

Getting into the bathroom was harder than she'd thought it would be. It was as if in that single day, Chuck had managed to tear her down so completely. She was afraid that she would relapse, terrified. She didn't tell somebody about how she was feeling, should have done it the night before, but she gathered that maybe she was afraid to do that too. She'd been find telling Serena everything two nights ago, but now everything just seemed so completely fragile. The mirror staring back at her, telling her she was ugly was not encouraging. She knew sometime throughout the day something would tell her the same thing over and over. There would be no relief until she had nothing else. The fact made her fear for her life. She wanted to yell and scream at him, to inform him – in case he didn't already know – that hurting her, stealing away everything wouldn't do him any good. And, if he had decided to not have a heart and not care even then that she had been resorted to a pile of dust, what would he do? He would get bored. He'd have no one, except perhaps clueless Nate. He'd run his business into the ground with his lack of heart, though he probably would not see it that way. Plenty of businessmen, often the more successful ones, were ruthless to the point of unsavory, rude dominance and succession. _So, what was the point?_

The shining white porcelain goddess was ever so tempting for her just a few feet away. Her reflection in the mirror might look better to her after she'd had a good cleansing. She hadn't eaten yet, so it might be somewhat more difficult, but then again there was always the digested or not food from the night before, rather the day. She hadn't eaten since lunch the day before, and now her stomach was grumbling. The thought of purging encouraged her. Then, at least she could go out into the streets – maybe shopping with Serena later – and at least feel that she'd done the best she could in perfecting herself for that day. Her knees bent as she grasped the edge of the sink to herself steady. The sound of Dorota opening the door to her bedroom and calling out for her stopped her. She stood to her feet, shook out the invisible wrinkles in her nightie and cleared her throat. She flushed the toilet absentmindedly and pushed the bathroom door open after briefly turning the sink on and off. When Dorota spotted her as she walked back into her bedroom, she didn't suspect a thing, only smiled brightly as she proceeded to put her clothes away in their appropriate locations. Blair could still feel the tingling in her fingers from pressing down on the toilet lever. She grabbed a pile of clothes and moved to the adjoining bedroom to change. The bathroom was too dangerous and she suddenly felt dirty dressing even in front of Dorota.

"Miss Blair?" her maid called out, concerned and no doubt curious about her strange behavior.

"Privacy, Dorota!" Blair said from behind the closed door. Dorota mumbled something she couldn't entirely interpret. Her heart was beating too fast. But the sound of the other door opening and closing encouraged her. Dorota had left. Cautiously, she opened the door and peeked into the room she shared with Serena. It was completely vacated. She exhaled contently and walked back inside, proceeding then to change her clothes.

When she'd finished, her phone buzzed and she went to see who was calling. When the ID showed Chuck's name she ignored it. It buzzed again, but she ignored it. When she heard Dorota's phone buzzing in the other room, it occurred to her that the second buzz might not be from Chuck. She opened her phone and warily read the message. The picture said it all. Jenny Humphrey had come back to town, and standing across from her on the sidewalk was Chuck Bass.

…

Despite her better judgment, she stormed out onto the street and demanded her limo driver to take her to exactly where Chuck and Jenny were located. Her stomach coiled up tightly inside her. She shouldn't be going there, she told herself. It would only equal agony, seeing the very reason everything had gone up in flames standing beside her ex, the one she was trying desperately hard to convince herself she did not love anymore. His horrific actions from the previous day should have done the deed well enough, but it didn't, and now she was heading to her execution.

Traffic slowed considerably and it took her several lingering minutes to realize it. She was so caught up in her thoughts. They were torturing her. The memories of her past were torturing her. She didn't know what was worse, having Chuck purposely torture her or him continually acting as if what had happened between them meant nothing to him, like she was despicable to even look upon. She had felt the disgust when he was Eva even if he'd never said anything directly. At least he wasn't falling in love with anyone else right in front of her now, but it still did not bode well for the future. She couldn't even think about forgiving him. She got the feeling that he wouldn't care even if she told him it wouldn't happen, not after this. The fact that the war going on now was what would cause her to never forgive him was put into the extreme denial category. She couldn't let herself think for a second that she'd forgiven him for what he'd done to her in the spring. The tightening in her stomach spread throughout her entire body and she was suddenly very tense. She wanted to scream. She couldn't seem to get the horrible feeling to go away. Honking cars broke through her trance though, and she thanked reality for its timely annoyances.

She was snapping her fingers and yelling impatiently before she even realized it. Clearly she was mad at the limo driver for not going any faster. She was determined to take Jenny down, regardless if Chuck had been the one to bring her back. The one thing she was in control of was the ability to look very intimidating to that trash blonde from Brooklyn – she never forgot her roots. She'd told her to leave and never come back. Just because she'd been gone for the summer didn't mean she could come back now. She hadn't forgiven her just like she hadn't forgiven Chuck.

_She had to stop thinking about him_.

Her transportation eventually got her to her destination. She noticed Chuck and Jenny were still positioned exactly where they'd been on the photo. She wondered if they'd been there just waiting for her, and maybe if they were in on some scheme together. An icy chill shot through her. Despite her overly bitchy behavior, she didn't know if she take them both down at once. If Chuck's main goal at the moment was to steal Serena away from her, she wouldn't have anyone.

She shook her head, forcing herself not to dwell on the negative, at least in regards to herself. She opened the car door quickly and stormed towards them. They didn't move, but their facial expressions when she finally came to them spoke volumes of just where they did. Jenny looked somewhat surprised, but more worried than anything. Chuck was smirking. He was amused.

"Blair," Chuck began, obviously aware that Jenny wouldn't take the initiative. His hands were slipped casually in his pockets, but Blair didn't even look at him except for that first glance. She didn't even give him the satisfaction of a scowling glare. She just stared straight on at Jenny who was desperately trying to avoid eye contact.

"Jenny, maybe you didn't hear me when I told you to leave New York forever," she said airily, her eyes piercing through her like venom. Jenny looked very guilty, but apparently realized she could not win this war.

"I know, and I'm sorry, really. I had definitely planned on staying away after what happened—"

"At least one of you did," she muttered. Chuck's brows narrowed before he could force himself to look amused. Jenny sighed shakily, unaware of the brief shift in Chuck's mood.

"It's just that, well—"

"Spit it out!" she demanded, well aware that her voice was rising far above what was normal in a situation like this. But, she was a Waldorf, which meant that not only was she a complete drama queen but she always got what she wanted. With this particular subject she had control. It didn't look like Jenny was in on anything.

"Chuck got me a job here in the city," she said finally. Blair turned her eyes onto Chuck at last. He was smiling like a perfectly sated Cheshire cat. She didn't look hurt in the least, just annoyed. She would ignore the painful sensation rising up in her as long as possible. She hoped that would be at least until she got out of here. After yelling at Jenny, she didn't really know what else she would _do_.

Jenny sighed again. "It's a great opportunity…and, it's a chance for my dad to finally calm down and not try to…" Blair folded her arms across her chest, clearly on the verge of scoffing at her confession. "…kill him."

Chuck smirked again. Blair looked at him briefly. The brief glare ended in a scoff, just as she'd known it would. Jenny looked very worried. But Chuck just put his arm around her, his hand resting on the small of her back. She tensed, but Blair got a feeling that it was only because _she_ was in her presence. The thought that these two were on good terms now made her sick to her stomach.

"I tried refusing it…" she continued on. Blair rolled her eyes, wishing for the love of god the bitch would stop talking. "But he was very insistent. I considered the benefits, and…" she sighed, "well, he said you'd be okay with it." Blair's head reeled back. She did not even shoot him an angry, annoyed glare, like she was sure he would have wanted. She just looked at little Jenny Humphrey in mock-shock, pissed that after how she'd demanded she leave she could honestly think she'd be okay with seeing her run around in the same vicinity as she.

"Obviously, you're not…" she sighed again. She turned to Chuck. "Maybe this isn't such a good idea, Chuck," she said. Chuck smiled warmly at her.

"Nonsense. You're family." His eyes sparkled at her. It tightened the knots in Blair's stomach, even if Jenny wasn't reacting in a similarly charming way. Blair wanted to make some snide remark on their entire family's favorite activity appearing to be incest, but the words did not escape her. The pain was too great.

"Why did you both wait out here so long?" she asked finally, her bitchy voice still thankfully intact. Chuck looked up at her and smiled.

"We wanted to make sure you were okay with this arrangement, of course," he said. Jenny didn't look at either of them. Her head was downcast, as if she was afraid to get shot at any second. He looked down at the blonde just a moment later. "I told you everything would be fine."

He guided the young Humphrey away as Blair watched. The image of Chuck's hand on the small of her back burned into her brain. The memories she'd concocted over the summer of his fucking Jenny senseless returned with a vengeance. She got a very uneasy feeling that this job Chuck had gotten for her would place her very close to him. It didn't matter that Jenny didn't share any feeling for the Basstard. The images were still so very vivid and painful. She walked away before she could dwell on it any further, at least out in the open.

…

She was halfway out of the bathroom when he called her later that night. The day had come and gone. She'd bonded with Serena some and told her nothing. She'd commented briefly on her meeting with Chuck and Jenny, but not enough to cause too much concern. She knew she was shutting herself, and maybe that was what Chuck wanted, but she just felt herself so emotionally torn up. If she opened up about it, she would go over the deep end again, and this time Chuck wouldn't be there to save her. Serena would be ripped away too, and Nate was too involved in Juliet at the moment. It was probably good for her to have a connection with the two and be okay with them together, but it didn't help her too much at the moment, and somehow she just knew Chuck would find a way to screw that up too.

Stupidly, she answered her phone. She'd been ignoring his calls all day, but since all she was planning to do was curl up with Serena on their bed and go to sleep, she figured it was safe. Plus, he could say something that would hint at her next future demise. She'd be able to prepare for it somehow then. She wouldn't fall as far maybe.

"You decided to answer your phone," he greeted. She pursed her lips.

"You refused to stop calling," she said, unable to keep the annoyance out of her voice. She could almost feel him _smirking_ through the phone.

"Could have turned your phone off," he suggested. She rolled her eyes.

"You would have gotten to me some way or another. Besides, I know you're going to torture me in some horrific way probably very soon, and it would be so very un-Chuck like if you didn't post it on Gossip Girl. You wouldn't want me to miss it. It wouldn't be as fun for you then."

"You know me so well, Waldorf."

She sighed loudly, ignoring the once compliment that was now turned into practically an insult.

"What do you want, Chuck? To tell me what you plan to do firsthand before you send the blast off? Or, perhaps you want to tell me that you've turned little Jenny Humphrey into your little hooker."

"Close," he said. She froze, a shudder ripping through her at the speed of light. She forced herself not to make a sound. His chuckled gave her a painful headache she knew she wouldn't be able to rid herself of anytime soon. "I've made her my personal secretary."

"And Rufus is okay with that?" she asked, amused. It was incredibly satisfying to find a problem in his little strategy, what she knew of it at least.

"He knows Bass Industries pays well. It's not necessary for him to know the exact position his daughter plays in the grand scheme of things. Besides, it won't matter either way if he does find out. As long as I keep my hands off her, there will be no need for Jenny to go telling her father useless information."

"And you think that'll be easy for you to do?" she asked, holding a tight grip over her stomach. Her nails dug into the fabric of her shirt until she felt it on her skin.

"I've already had her once. There's no need to have her again," he said simply. She quietly sighed in relief. She didn't think she could trust him with how things were, but it seemed this assurance she could accept. From how Jenny had acted around her earlier in the day, she didn't think she'd allow for Chuck to take her again, easily or not.

"I'm a very big supporter of one night stands," he continued. "There was only one one-night stand I was stupid enough to pursue." She held her breath. "Biggest mistake of my life."

Her fingers clutched at the phone tightly and in another moment they were trembling. She closed her eyes until they were squeezing tears out of them and down onto her skin. It hurt her so badly to say these things. He had no right to, not after all he'd put her through. But, he thought he had a right and somehow because of that it was allowed. She couldn't stop him, not like this. She couldn't get through to him, not anymore.

"Why did you call?" she managed. The shakiness in her voice was restrained with great effort.

"You mean, despite to tell you how incredibly close I will be to Jenny Humphrey on a now daily basis? How, since I do much of my work from the penthouse suite, that she may even be required to come into my bedroom for some particular…dictation?"

She swallowed hard, not sure she could take another second of this. She wanted to question what he would even dictate about. He'd never been one to do that, never seen the need to, found it stupid and unnecessary, something cheap professors did in order to make themselves believe they were successful. It would have been smart to point this out, but she just couldn't. She was too broken.

"Chuck," she said weakly, "please, stop." The vulnerability in her was horrible for a situation like this, but she could not help but beg for it. She wanted so desperately for the Chuck she knew to come back to her. She hadn't seen _that_ Chuck since Paris. She missed him.

"I'll talk to you tomorrow, Blair," he said, ending the call. Her shaky hand finally dropped the phone on the tile floor involuntarily. It wasn't loud enough for Serena or Dorota to take notice, so she didn't call out that she was okay. Instead, she made the excuse to herself that she needed to kneel down onto the floor in order to pick it up.

But, she didn't pick up the phone. She got down on her knees and scooted across the floor to the toilet. She dug around in a drawer to find a hair tie and pulled her hair back in it. None of it fell in her face. She gripped the sides of the toilet firmly, her hands still shaking. She looked down into the still water tempting her. It was so clear, not tainted by anything. She took a deep breath, willing herself one last time to retreat. But, visions of Chuck and Jenny, Chuck and Eva, and all his cruel words consumed her. She leaned further into the toilet and extended her forefinger, pushing it into the back of her throat. It wasn't long until the gurgling, choking noise was interrupted by the gagging release of half-digested food. It was disgusting, the taste left in her mouth was unbearable. She didn't feel beautiful like she thought she would. But, she did feel a great desire to do it again. The taste would be less disgusting with repetition.

But, she'd forgotten to turn on the sink to drown out the sound. The door swung open, Serena standing in its entryway.

"Blair…" She cut herself over, her eyes landing on her best friend kneeled down in front of the porcelain goddess. Remnants of puke still clung to her bottom lip. "Oh, B…" she whispered, walking across the room to sit beside her. "B," she sighed, pressing her hand to her best friend's face. She looked at her expression mournfully and tears filled her eyes. She managed to tear herself away long enough to grab a washcloth and wipe all signs of puke off of her best friend's face. It was clear she wanted to ask if she'd gone through with the act, but she knew she had. Blair's pale face and washed out eyes said it all. She pulled her close and rocked her.

"I thought you were done with this, B," she sighed against her, threading her fingers through her hair. She pulled away for a moment, and saw as Blair shook her head. She took in a quick, shivering gasp. A tear slipped off her cheek to the floor. "B?"

She looked back up at her. She wanted to say something, but couldn't find herself able to. She collapsed in the blonde's lap, utterly exhausted. She sighed in mourning and snuggled her head against Serena's legs. She felt the gentle soothing of Serena's fingers running up and down her arm slowly. She felt her lips press to the side of her face. She sat there for awhile, just treasuring in the goodness she still had left.

"He can't separate us, B," she said. "I didn't think he'd go this far, but I swear he won't ever separate us." Blair sighed shakily and wrapped her arms around Serena's waist. She didn't question what her best friend might or might not know concerning what had all happened in the last forty-eight hours. Her mind was exhausted from the day's work, and the last fifteen minutes.

"Hold me," she said quietly. The shadow of her friend loomed over her. On the cold tile floor near to her most recent demise, she fell asleep. In the morning, she would wake up in bed and miss the bathroom with its ever tempting porcelain goddess. It was the beginning of the end.

…

A/N: You're welcome. Lol. Please review. ;p Someone suggested a chapter with Chuck's POV, because he seems so heartless thus far. Well, he has been on the show since 4x02, and because that I am pissed. Writing his POV would mean I'd have to give him at least a little guilt, a little bit of a heart, and I really cannot feel that from what we've seen and hear right now for the current SL. *shrug* We'll see. Oh, & I don't think I'll have this done by the end of next chapter. XD haha. We'll see. ;p Thank-you so much again btw! I feel like I've NEVER gotten this good of response for my fics. Lol. I swear, the people who have alerted & favorite this fic has DOUBLED since I started writing this chapter. Heh. *is overjoyed*


	3. Chance of Cloudy

A/N: You guys are freaking insane. I got over 30 reviews for the last chapter. *shakes head* I mean, I feel BAD that I didn't update yesterday! XD lmao! It's obvious to me now that I won't be finishing this story in this chapter, and probably not by the next episode either, which is sad, but from recent spoilers I've heard, the show is going in a completely different direction than I had planned for this story, so it's all good. Please keep up with the reviews! You guys completely make my life! ;p

*I own nothing. No copyright infringement intended.

….

**Ch.3—Chance of Cloudy**

_The door opened slowly. Her face looked up at him, dried tears still clinging to her cheeks. Her eyes were red and swollen and her hair was a frizzy mess. Her nightgown was half off and every so often a hiccup would escape her. He didn't say a word. He just came into the bathroom, shut the door behind him and sat next to her on the cold, tile floor. _

_She fell into his arms. He rocked her, holding her to his chest, a million thoughts racing through his head. It wasn't exactly the first time he'd seen her like this, crying in front of the toilet. It wasn't the first time he'd done something about it either. In fact, just being in there with her made him feel like he was worth something, because he was saving her when she was too weak to stand up on her own in all her Waldorf glory._

_"Chuck," she whispered, as he carried her from the tile floor to the soft comfort of her queen-sized bed. He remembered how she'd insisted on the queen-size because she was a queen, and not even the tempting size of the king-sized bed would make her trade. He would have smiled at the memory if the circumstances had been different._

_He turned to look at her with her slightly parted lips and her closed lids, the no doubt exquisitely soft eyelashes lying angelically against her skin. She was tucked beneath the covers and actually looked somewhat at peace. It wasn't the middle of the night or during lunch break like the times he'd helped her through this before. It was early morning, and Serena had called him. He'd been very surprised that the blonde had gone to him to be the hero. Apparently Nate was to be on the outs though, demanded by Blair Waldorf herself, so he was next on the list. It wasn't what he wanted, but at least he'd been requested nonetheless._

_"What is it?" he asked, knowing full well she was not going to open her eyes to see his questioning stare. She was halfway to dreamland already._

_"S-stay," she slurred, pathetically tugging at the sleeve of his shirt. He looked down at where she pulled and half-contemplated leaving. "Please," she moaned. He looked at her, heartbroken by all that she was and knew there was nowhere he'd rather be._

_"Okay," he said. She released his sleeve and he moved around the bed to slip in across from her. She felt his weight coming down on the bed, but he was not touching her and that somehow made her nervous. She reached out for him and he caught hold of her hand. She used his grasp to pull him closer and tucked her head under his chin. He pressed himself against her, intertwined their fingers and fell asleep one heartbeat after her._

Her eyes flickered open at the song of soft china on the little end table beside her bed. Serena's long fingers weaved through her hair, pushing away the strands from her face. She looked up at her.

"Hey," she said softly. "How are you doing?"

Blair looked back at the china cup.

"It's hot tea," Serena answered the silent question. "Made by Dorota herself."

"I'd be worried if you made it," she murmured, slowly sitting up in the bed and leaning against the wall. Flashes sped through her mind, more memories of Chuck and her making out on this bed, banging their heads against the wall on accident, having half-second fights that ended up in jewelry and butterfly confessions. She blinked and held her hands out for the tea. Carefully, Serena picked it up and gave it to her.

"Careful, it's hot."

Blair said nothing, but the cringing reaction on Serena's end told her she had not reacted well to the hot substance. Her tongue was burning. She blew on the steaming liquid and a few minutes later it had cooled enough for her to drink. The tea made its journey down her throat, pooling in her stomach. She could feel the warmth all the way down and it helped. A little. Her eyes were closed, somehow making the false contentment in her linger.

"B…"

Her eyes opened. She felt Serena's tender hand on her knee and the intent concern in her eyes. She wanted to smile a little to reassure her, maybe so much so that she wouldn't fuss over her. She felt guilty for that part.

"I'm okay," she said finally. It was not convincing enough though. She had a feeling even Nate wouldn't buy it. "Don't tell him, okay?" she request. Her eyes were soft but fierce. Her hand found its way to the one placed on her knee and wrapped around it.

"I wouldn't," she told her, sounding almost scandalized in the calmest way she could imagine. But Blair knew telling Chuck would soon be inevitable, even for Serena. If she didn't tell him directly, she would tell him indirectly, and despite his most recent change in personality – the heartless one, he would catch on, maybe moreso now that he was embracing his old self too much.

"Thank-you," she said, a little smile reached her lips surprisingly. It sent a visible wave of relief through Serena. Blair was glad for it. She also wondered if Chuck had managed to ruin her further overnight. She knew she wouldn't find out about it though, not at this point. Serena would keep her away from Gossip Girl posts at all costs. _Maybe she should be grateful_, she wondered. After all, she didn't deserve this type of extreme behavior he was bestowing on her, despite how she had torn apart his relationship with the French foreign angel. He had treated her like trash since returning, however subtle it might have been. His _your world would be easier if I didn't come back_ declaration didn't hit home for her until she realized she was crying herself to sleep almost every night. Now she couldn't do that because she was with Serena. It was why she'd had to silence herself all summer. But still…well, it just didn't seem fair. He hadn't even _tried_ to fight for her.

"S?" She looked up at her, her finger swirling in the tea. The blonde looked at her questioningly. She sighed and then pursed her lips. She wasn't about to propose getting Chuck back for what he'd done. She didn't have the energy or the desire to do so. Going out in public would probably be traumatic but she could think of nothing else to rid her of her hallucinations of Chuck.

"Do you…want to go to the park?" she offered meekly. Serena's lips curled into a little smile. She nodded once and gripped her hand tighter.

"Sure."

…

Her blood froze cold. She had been so sure he wouldn't be here. Well, she hadn't been 100% positive since Serena had refused to give her her phone back, but since the blonde had been checking Gossip Girl all day for Chuck sightings, she'd trusted her judgment. Clearly, she had more work to do. She sighed, taking a deep breath and walking towards him.

"What took you so long?" he asked smugly. His smirk was beginning to irritate her in a way it never had. Her hand formed into a fist at her side. _Where the hell was Serena?_

"What do you want?" she demanded. She would just suffer through his next torturous act and leave. He would not take Serena away from her, and he would not disgrace her in public. Not while she was still so fragile, not when she didn't have a foolproof plan where she'd pretend to absolutely hate him no matter what.

His brows furrowed, and it genuinely confused her, because it looked so real, like he wasn't playing games or scheming for her demise. He just looked confused. That immediately rang off warning bells in her head, but she was too lost in his response to focus on what was happening.

"Is something wrong?" he asked. Slowly, he walked towards her. He took one of her hands in his own and then he slowly unfisted her other one. He looked deeply into her eyes. There was so much concern in those hazel orbs, she wanted it to be real. _Was it? _It couldn't be. Any second now he would say "genuinely" how much he hated her and hint just a little at how he would torture her next.

"Don't play games with me, Chuck." She ripped her hands away and backed away. She cursed herself for not being able to turn away. She should have – would have – if she hadn't so needed to hear his response. This was the most real he'd been to her – or _appeared_ to be at least – since their conversation at the train station in Paris.

"Blair." He took a step towards her. "Tell me what's going on." He reached for her.

"Chuck, I'm serious!" Her shriek was not loud gratefully, but her mind was racing out of control. Was he actually doing this? Pretending like he hadn't done anything to her, recently or in the spring? Suddenly having forgiven her for tearing apart him and his precious Eva? What the hell was happening? Was she dreaming again? Had she even left the house with Serena?

"Blair." And then he was there, holding her in his arms, his hands wrapped around her head as she fiercely held him to her. She sobbed into him, wishing this was how things were. She knew then that she had to be dreaming. This couldn't be real. It couldn't. Suddenly, she felt herself falling, his grip evaporating around her, but the look of concern still stayed. She reached for him but then he was gone and the whole world went dark.

The quiet noise of nurses and doctors making their way through the halls stirred her an hour later. She opened her eyes and found Serena. She was sitting beside her, looking incredibly worried as she bit at her bottom lip. She looked around the room, feeling a little hazy. There were a couple wires stuck to her, probably just to check for vitals, blood pressure, stuff like that. She wasn't sure, and it was just another fact, so she didn't bother with it. She looked out the window and sighed. That got Serena's attention.

"Oh my god. B?"

She turned towards her and smiled a little. Her head gently nestled further into the pillows. "Hey," she whispered. Her voice was rough around the edges. Serena's eyes looked teary, and almost as if by instinct, her hands clasped over Blair's resting along the side of the bed.

"How are you doing?" she asked tenderly. Blair looked around the room again. She thought she saw a familiar figure in the hallway, but she decided not to chance it. She might faint again.

"I fainted, didn't I?"

Serena nodded, biting at her bottom lip again. She put a hand to Blair's face and brushed out the same strands of hair that had been in the way that morning. "Why didn't you tell me you were feeling light-headed?"

"I…" Her brows furrowed. Serena looked at her searchingly, but then comprehension seemed to dawn on her. Apparently she had come to some sort of conclusion.

"You don't remember," she said, nodding. "The doctors said you might be a little hazy on what happened for a bit after you finally woke up." She chuckled lightly.

Blair decided that was as good a reason as any. She wasn't about to tell her that she had been unaware of any light-headedness at all that afternoon because she'd been too busy hallucinating about a Chuck that no longer existed.

"Right."

Serena smiled and shook her head. She looked at her and cupped her face in her hand. It looked like she wanted to ask her a million questions, but was miraculously holding back. Blair was glad for it. She needed Serena to stay silent, because she suddenly ached to go back into her hallucination and hug that Chuck for real, because she knew that Chuck was safe and so hopelessly in love with her.

"Can I get you some water?"

Blair opened her mouth just before Serena asked the question. She wanted to know what had really happened. Had she fainted and the whole experience was just a dream? Or had she actually started talking in public, holding someone that was not really there? Living too far in a dream that had died long ago? She ignored the demanded questions and just nodded.

"Thanks," she said as Serena left the room.

A figure loomed in the hallway just behind the nearest corner. Serena hadn't noticed him when she passed. That couldn't be good. Was she really hallucinating again? Had she fainted in a _hospital bed_? This was getting ridiculous. Maybe she should just go and make herself sick in the bathroom again. Then, she'd be knocked out cold and maybe fall into a coma where she could just enjoy the old Chuck Bass that loved her without worrying about if it was real or not.

But when a nurse actually bumped into him and he apologized, she knew it was no hallucination. Her grip on the sheets tightened. She became incredibly rigid, tensed for whatever was to come. He would not win her over by being concerned, though she knew that was only wishful thinking that he actually would be.

She would not say the first words. He would have to say the, do his part in this despicable war and leave her alone with her dreams and her own personal nurse, Serena. Her face showed complete contempt, her eyes demanded that he leave, but he kept walking towards her. He stopped about a foot before her bed, his hands slid dutifully into his pants' pockets.

She sighed loudly when he still said nothing several minutes later. She didn't know where the hell Serena was – it couldn't take _that_ long to find water – but she could ignore Chuck just fine even if he was standing right in front of her. She adjusted herself more comfortably on the bed and sank her head into the pillow. She closed her eyes and soon she could almost pretend he wasn't there. She heard him walk around her bed. She could feel his eyes staring her down, piercing through her skin. Her face felt very, very hot. She suddenly was very aggravated that the wires she was attached to wouldn't let her turn in her "sleep". Finally, she opened her eyes. He looked amused with his raised eyebrows. She sighed and sat up in the bed.

"What do you want, Chuck?" she asked. It seemed fate would not be kind to her today.

"Ah, Sleeping Beauty awakes," he said, taking the seat Serena had previously occupied. One of his knees crossed over the other. There was little hope in her, but it did not slip past her notice that he had called her _sleeping beauty_ instead of…sleeping…_ugly_. She would scold herself later for the poor terminology. It was unexpected. That would be herexcuse.

"I heard you went to the hospital," he said matter-of-factly.

"Serena told you?" she asked, trying not to sound exasperated. She didn't think her best friend would betray her promise in less than twenty-four hours, but at this point she knew not to be surprised by much when it came to Chuck.

"No, on the contrary, I found out on Gossip Girl."

She rolled her eyes and sighed. She folded her arms across her chest, as best she could. "Don't even try to tell me you weren't the one that put it there."

"Why would I post something that—"

She raised her eyebrows, turning her head to him, daring him with her eyes to finish the sentence he'd started. She wanted to hear from his own mouth, no matter how painful, that he wouldn't have dare sent in a post that would most likely cause concern amongst the individuals of Manhattan.

"Why are you here?" he asked, turning the tables on her. It wasn't that she hadn't expected it, and she was glad not to hear him finish his prior sentence, but she still didn't like being so on the spot.

"Serena will be back soon with a cup of water for me. I suggest you leave before she _makes_ you," she said primly. He smirked a little and brought a small cup of water from a little tray on the counter behind him and held it out to her. She looked at the water, then at his face, and then reluctantly she accepted the cup. She took a sip from it and then handed it back to him.

"I've kept Serena occupied for the time being." He smiled smugly and leaned forward. "We have time." She looked at him, first confused and then annoyed. She huffed and shook her head, looking away.

"Tell me why you're here," he said.

"Oh, Gossip Girl didn't tell you?" she challenged. He smirked, and for a brief moment she let herself believe that they were just having a witty conversation that would end in smiles and passionate kisses. The thought made her sad. She wondered if he could see the brief flight of emotion that fluttered across her face.

"Gossip Girl is often wrong," he said. She narrowed her eyes, trying so hard to figure him out. It had never been so hard before. But then again, he had never been this dark of a person before, relentless, heartless. He had an agenda. She had to remember that. But, if she wasn't mistaken, there was a double meaning to his words.

"Chuck!"

She looked up and saw a shocked Serena staring at them from just down the hallway. She was relieved. She didn't want to continue this conversation any longer. Strangely enough she felt safe in this hospital, away from gossip and social destruction, away from what Chuck might do to her. His presence tainted everything.

"Guess your distraction wasn't enough," she quipped.

A determined Serena stormed into the room and yanked him up out of the chair and out of the room, shutting the door in his face. He had never really had a chance, Blair thought. Even when her best friend told him to leave she was pulling him up and out, definitely not of his free will.

"So sorry about that, B." She looked apologetically at her.

"It's okay. It was bound to happen sooner or later," she said, watching Serena as she sat back down in her chair, cleansing it of the evil Basstard that had just occupied it. She noticed that Serena had no cup of water in either of her hands. "What took you so long?" she asked curiously.

"I…uh…" She seemed at a loss for words. _This could not be good_, Blair thought. It would definitely be disappointing and pathetic too. "Well, I was getting your water, but then this surgeon started talking to me, and…"

She sighed, falling back into the pillows. She put her arm over her eyes so she wouldn't have to listen to her best friend blabber on about some half-ass excuse that had kept her waiting.

"No, no, B, listen!"

She groaned, refusing to look at her.

"I kept going! I really did!" she said. Blair slowly lifted her arm and peeked one eye at her. "I said I had to go get you some water and why you were here and all—"

She groaned and sat up in the bed. "Oh, S, don't tell me he just got someone else to bring it in here for you. Please don't tell me that." Serena's wordless guilty expression told her everything she needed to know. She grumbled. "I knew he wasn't here because he was actually worried about me." She sighed. It was eerily quiet and she knew then that she shouldn't have voiced her thought out loud. She opened her eyes. "Can I go home soon?"

Serena nodded, smiling softly. "Soon. I made sure the news got to your doctor, because the surgeon apparently—"

"Oh god."

…

"I heard about what happened to Blair. Is she okay?" Pause. "Oh, that's good." Pause. "Yeah, I know you guys never told me how she used to hurt herself, but…" Pause. Sigh. "Yeah, okay, thanks, Serena. Keep me updated. Bye."

He dropped the phone into his pocket and looked across the room where Chuck was sitting on the couch. He was the same old brooding Chuck as always, glass of scotch in his hands and dead stare on the wall. Nate ran a hand through his hair and approached him. As expected, the brown-haired boy didn't even look at him.

"You've got to stop this, man."

Chuck said nothing, just took another swallow of his scotch. Nate could see that the glass was getting low. The bottle of scotch was nearby and it was almost empty too. He sighed.

"I'm serious." He walked around the couch until he was standing just on the other side of the coffee table. "I know you're pissed about Blair screwing up your relationship with Eva, but she could have been seriously hurt today."

Chuck's slanted eyes looked up at him. "That's not my fault," he said, standing to his feet.

"Chuck," Nate reached for him as he started walking away. Chuck snapped his arm away and kept walking until he reached the bar. He extended his arm underneath the countertop until he found another bottle of scotch. Nate sighed and shook his head as he watched on hopelessly. It was how Chuck drowned out his sorrows. It was almost sad how he'd missed this Chuck during the past weeks when he'd been with Eva.

"She fainted," he said, swirling around the drink in his glass. "I had nothing to do with it. I was nowhere near her." He took a sip and then turned around to look at Nate, leaning back on the bar. "What's more, I haven't screwed with her at all today, so you can't blame this on me." He walked back over to the couch and drank some more of the scotch. He pushed the coffee table away with his feet , apparently needing more space. Nate watched him, unsure of what to think. He sat down on the couch next to him.

"You've got to stop this," he said again. Chuck did not respond. "Look, if you don't tell her you're not over her, I will." Chuck scoffed and looked at him.

"Don't go spouting lies, Nathaniel. You're not very good at it."

The blonde shook his head. "If you were over her, you wouldn't be torturing her like this."

"You think so?" Chuck raised his brows in amusement. It was sarcastic, but apparently Nate hadn't quite gotten that. His thoughts were centered on Chuck stopping this war. He wasn't focusing on Chuck's new thought process.

"I _know_ so," he insisted. Chuck smirked and he leaned back in his chair. He sighed and relaxed against the soft cushions. His glass of scotch rested upright in his hand propped up on his chest. "Naturally, you are oblivious." Nate sighed and leaned back into the couch as well.

"My threat still stands," he reminded him. Chuck gave him a slanted glance and then sighed again. A hope shot up in Nate. The possibility that he might have actually gotten Chuck to cave in so soon after his war declaration made his spirits soar. He'd always be able to hold that over Serena, not that they were competing for the best best friend award or anything, but he'd never really been responsible for getting Chuck and Blair back together. He couldn't believe he was supporting this notion when it once filled him with complete hatred to even think about.

"Your threat means nothing," Chuck finally said. "You don't follow through."

Nate frowned. "I could," he said. Chuck smirked a little.

"But you won't."

Nate opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came. He didn't have a defense to Chuck's witty remarks, and he didn't have a proper response to the things he was serious about most often either. It made it incredibly hard to have any effect on Chuck's decisions. More often than not Blair was the only one that could get through to him and right now that wasn't even possible because she had become his prey, and not in a good 'I'm going to get you back no matter what' way, in a bad 'I'm going to make you hurt as much as I do or more because I can't fix things and I can't hide in a happy good guy bubble anymore'. He sighed, wishing Serena was there so he could somehow see her side of things. She'd always really been the lead in getting Blair and Chuck better, even if it was mostly for the trivial things. Because, Chuck _was_ right. He wouldn't follow through. That was Chuck and Blair's job. Not his. Not even his and Serena's. They didn't follow through with threats. They hardly them themselves. It was all getting so very frustrating and complicated.

Chuck leaned forward, resting forearms on his thighs. He reached over and placed the half empty glass on the coffee table. He interlaced his fingers together and stared ominously into the curved wood edges of the table. "She was supposed to fight back," he said. Nate looked at him curiously. Chuck turned to look at him. "You know?"

Nate brightened. He tried to think of something bright to say, something that would get Chuck to continue opening up, but nothing came to him. He was always lost as to what to do when it came to Chuck and Blair. All he was good at, for the most part, was sensing when Chuck wasn't over Blair. And right now, well, he wasn't.

"She's always fought back," he told him, looking at him as if getting him to believe his own words was the most crucial thing at the moment. "Always had no problem with making me hurt as much as I was making her hurt." He paused, contemplating the whole situation and their whole past together when fighting. His eyes drifted away from Nate's face. "If she doesn't love me anymore..." he sighed, "I don't understand why she wouldn't _participate_."

"It's only been a few days," he offered, cursing himself directly afterwards. Had he actually _encouraged_ him to keep torturing her until she fought back? _Idiot_. It was no coincidence that Blair had had an 'accident' in the park today. Obviously she was taking Chuck's hits hard because she _did_ still love him. He stifled a disgusted grumble at himself, kicking his shin in his mind. Chuck nodded along though, obliviously lost in the last thing his best friend had just said, probably because it worked very well to his advantage. He turned his head back towards the table.

"You're probably right," he said. Nate looked at him strangely, even if Chuck was too much in his own world to realize it. Had he actually _not_ questioned his stupid remark? Not even smirk or laugh about it? No, he hadn't. He'd taken it seriously. That was weird. Even Nate caught that. Chuck nodded, mulling over the information.

"Not that I'm encouraging this war by any means," he finally said hastily. Chuck turned to him and smirked. _Oh crap, _he thought_. Serena's going to kill me_.

"Nonsense, Nathaniel." He gripped his collar bone. "I have underestimated your talents. You have quite the insight. Thank-you for showing me the light." He chuckled. Nate closed his eyes in aggravation. Chuck ignored the action though and stood to his feet. He took the empty scotch glasses to the bar counter and grabbed a scarf, heading out the door. "Don't wait up," he called out. The elevator ding was Nate's complete tragic demise. He covered his face with his hands and grumbled, trying very hard not to scream.

…

A/N: Extra long chapter! Yay! And, yes, some hintage of a possible Chuck with a heart. I can't help myself. I've stumbled on some spoilers that have made me have hope for CB again, even if I'm going to be in the darkest fieriest pit of hell for the next 2 or 3 episodes. Heh. So, yes, though Chuck's POV wasn't in that last scene, I can almost guarantee it will be in the next chapter – since this story obviously hasn't ended here (hope that doesn't disappoint you!). XD Please review! You guys continue to be my favorite audience. =) I am beyond floored by your amazing response to this story.

Also! Please vote on my poll. I'd like to know which of my other current multi-chap fics you'd like me to focus on, aside from this one of course. ;p

(Btw, that flashback scene in the beginning was around the time NB were dating & Blair had just forced herself to throw up…if that was unclear. ;p)


	4. Unarmed in Battle

A/N: I think you guys are going to like this chapter. =) It may be a little confusing on Chuck's end, but it's definitely the least angsty of the chapters thus far. I hope that doesn't disappoint some of you. I was a little sad when I wasn't getting as many reviews as before today; I thought it was b/c I didn't have enough angst in the last chapter! Anyways, I've gotten more reviews throughout the day, so clearly you all still love it & I was just impatient. Ha. Thanks again for all your amazing support. I definitely wouldn't be as inspired without it. Heheh. I've outlined this fic & it's going to be 11 chapters plus an epilogue. =) Hope you guys all love it till the end. Review! =D

*Pleeeeeeeeeeeeease vote on the poll on my profile!

*I own nothing. No copyright infringement intended. ;p

….

**Ch.4—Unarmed in Battle**

Serena was gone. The little note telling Blair she went to brunch with her family made her push aside the detail in an instant. Serena was not off doing stuff without her – she just hadn't wanted to wake her. That's what she'd be telling her now if she called her. She wouldn't call her. She was fine. She'd gotten back from the hospital in surprisingly good time going off of what Serena had said. In hindsight, Blair should not have been surprised. Her best friend was easy on the eyes and extremely convincing to the male gender because of it. Her flirting skills were top-notch too. She could be working as undercover spy for the government for all she knew.

She climbed of the bed, and then froze when she heard the ding of the elevator downstairs. Could Serena be back so soon? Had she really slept that long? No. She checked the clock. It was just past nine am. Her brows furrowed as she heard the soft padding of feet on the foyer floor. Dorota didn't call to her to inform her of who had just come. That was weird too. She slowly stood to her feet, as if the next move she made would be her undoing. A swirling uneasiness moved in the pit of her stomach. She closed her eyes as the sound of feet came up her stairs. When she opened her eyes, her suspicions were confirmed. Leaning against her doorframe was Chuck Bass in all his glory.

She looked at him once and then decided ignoring him would be the best plan. She walked across the room and started looking through her clothes in her closet, then in her drawers, then back again. She tried not to move too fast, but his constant unspeaking presence definitely made her nervous. She just wanted him _gone_. Finally, she sighed and turned to him, placing a hand on her hip.

"What do you want?" she demanded.

He chuckled and moved into her room. "You seem to be asking me that a lot lately," he observed. She rolled her eyes and gave up on looking for clothes. Her silk cami and shorts set more than covered her up. She would have crossed the room to toss her near transparent robe on, but then he would have been aware of her trying to cover herself up – from possible embarrassment? She pushed the thought aside. She shouldn't care what he thought of her, showing skin or not. If he didn't care about her, he certainly didn't care what she looked like. He's already 'had' her after all.

"That's because you declared _war_ on me," she said. He looked at her and smirked. He slipped his hands into his pockets. She noticed a scarf dangling around his neck. It reminded her of high school, and how strangely enough things had been simpler, even if it didn't seem that way at the time.

"Usually both sides fight in a war," he said, eyeing her as if she were some strange specimen. She held up her hands in mock-surrender.

"I surrender," she said. He raised his eyebrows at her very unnatural voice. She was obviously not in a good mood.

"As I recall, in war, when one side surrenders, the winning opponent gets to take over them." He smirked. She glared at him. "If you really aren't going to fight back, then I'm just going to have to keep taking everything away." He paused in between each of the last few words. She pursed her lips tightly.

"You know what? Fine. Take away everything. Don't tell me why you're here. Why don't you just—"

He cut her off. "Actually, I do have a reason in being here." She raised her eyebrows and crossed her arms across her chest, sardonically amused. Her expression dared him to continue, her knuckles going white in the crook of her elbows told him not to dawdle. "I'm here to take you to brunch." He smiled charmingly.

Her jaw dropped and her eyes widened instantly. "What?"

"_Brunch_," he said, as if she didn't know what it was. "You know, it's something we all do on Sundays? Get together? Eat?"

She looked up at him and narrowed her eyes. "_Used_ to," she snapped. He stopped talking but his open mouth still curved into a subtle smirk. She walked back to her bed and sat down on the edge. She saw him walking towards her out of the corner of her eye, but hell and heaven combined couldn't make her consent to him sitting next to her. She looked up at him and glared again. He halted, though there was no sign of hurt or confusion on his face like she'd hoped for_. It was too much to hope for at this point_, she gathered.

"What?" he asked. "Just because you and I are at ends with each other doesn't mean we can't go to a simple meal without sparring," he said, as if it made all the sense in the world. She looked up at him, her eyes still filled with venom.

"I'm not hungry," she ground out. He smiled and pulled a chair across the room for him to sit on.

"You fainted yesterday. Your body _needs_ you to be hungry."

Her eyes narrowed, but once again it did not have the desired effect. She was running out of options. Yelling at him and cursing the day he was born wouldn't be anything he hadn't heard before, and it certainly wouldn't affect his cheery mood. She was pushing her luck if she thought he'd just leave if she was silent. And she was hungry. She hadn't eaten that much after she'd gotten back last night. She'd been too tired, even with the rest she'd gotten at the hospital. Plus, she'd been desperate for more visions of the Chuck in her dreams. _That_ Chuck she craved for. He didn't try to hurt her, and he never did. It was like he was perfect, except he was _hers_, the Chuck she knew. He still had their history, and…hell, she couldn't explain it. It just seemed far better than the far cry from a man she had sitting in front of her.

"I'm not eating with you," she said matter-of-factly.

"Scared?" he taunted her.

"Terrified," she said, not even trying to hide the actual fear in her voice. She pushed fire out of her eyes, hoping that he would burn, but from what she could tell, the act had no effect on him. She unfocused her eyes, took a deep breath and stood to her feet. He grabbed her wrist before she could take a single step. Her fingers curled into her palm. She wondered if he would plead for her to come, if he would apologize, if he would force her to finally open up and tell him she still loved him. _If only she could be so lucky._

"I always used to take you out for breakfast."

And her hand relaxed at the words. Her fingers uncurled. Her face softened. Because, yes, she remembered. She remembered just them going out to breakfast since they were six years old. When Nate was busy for him and Serena was busy for her, which was sometimes quite often, it was just them. And the way he said it just now made it sound like he'd been dating her long before Nate. She wanted to believe in that memory. It almost seemed like a stepping stone to rebuiliding them, even if 'them' was only as friends. She highly doubted that would work ever, but she was willing to go along with it now to avoid being directly tortured.

She exhaled, blowing out a puff of air. He let go of her wrist, his eyes waiting for her answer. His eyes plead with her to come and she could not understand. She could not understand this whole morning. He hadn't taken back the war or apologized or told her he loved her, and she hadn't done any of that either. This was so very close to the Chuck in her dreams that she just wanted to pinch herself to see if she was imagining this, because if she was then she would immediately tell him she loved him and kiss him like her life depended on it.

"Okay," she finally said. She could've sworn his eyes lit up. "Don't make me regret this, Bass." He smiled slightly and backed out of the room, telling her he'd meet her downstairs. She hoped Dorota would slap him. But she wouldn't of course.

_Polish maids. Useless._

Much faster than she'd tried to do before, Blair went through her clothes and this time found just what she wanted in a heartbeat. It wasn't until afterwards that she realized she matched Chuck to the tee. On the way over to wherever he was taking her she told herself that she was doing it for the food. She needed food in her system to force herself to throw up properly. Because, when it was all said and done, everything would be the same, or maybe it would even turn into a hellish nightmare halfway through. She would need a release.

…

The brunch was awkward, to say the least. Well, at least for her it was. His face showed nothing of the heavy tension or stupidity she was feeling. He even drank orange juice with the meal instead of scotch. For someone who was trying to be worse than he'd ever been, drinking something without alcohol was laughable. She would have commented on it if the small talk hadn't made her want to scream.

"How about you tell me—"

She cut her hand through the air to stop him. He did stop talking but his mouth was still open. She realized he would not halt for long if she did not give a just reason for him to.

"Chuck, if you're trying to pry information out of me to use against me later, you can forget it," she said, going for icy instead of exasperated. She hoped she didn't fail at the attempt miserably. He slipped back in his chair, watching with her calculated precision. His chin was propped in his hand as if it was a golf ball. He smirked easily. He was either amused or impressed. She didn't want to know how she'd feel about _either_ reaction.

"Now, Blair—"

"Chuck." Her eyes were wide as she looked at him intently. He was still smirking. She sighed. "Look, I don't know why you wanted to do this. The only thing we have between us is a stupid war that only you are participating in and painful, deep issues that are not going to be addressed. The small talk is annoying and pointless. I'm pretty sure you knew all this before you insisted we go out together."

His eyes were still lazily watching her. His face was unreadable. Her huffing speech had done nothing to move him in any direction. _Nothing_. She wondered if he would attempt small talk again. At this point she would even take a fistful of hurled insults just to get her ticket to leave. They had been there fifteen minutes and already she felt she was fighting for her life. She looked down at the plate that had only a few bites removed from it and sighed. She couldn't even puke to her heart's content because there wasn't enough in her to puke from. And her heart ached too much for her to physically make herself eat faster.

"You finished, Waldorf?"

She looked up at him, trying not to display all the feelings that were swarming within her. From the look on his face, it looked like she had succeeded. There had been a slight shift in his face that appeared as though he was trying harder to figure her out. She placed the fork that she had momentarily picked up down and crossed her arms over each other on the edge of the table.

"There was silence. I'm done," she assured him, bitching almost naturally.

"You sure?"

She didn't think until afterwards how significant that question was. She was too caught up in _trying to leave_ to consider the fact that he might actually be trying to fix things. He'd been tormenting her for too long. There was no way this was for real. She just looked at him with her piercing dark brown eyes until he chuckled. Clearly, he had gotten the message.

"Look, I should go," she said, pushing herself up out of her chair.

"You've barely eaten, Blair. Sit down," he said nonchalantly.

"No, I'm done," she ground out, determined to leave. She had had enough of this unbearable non-talking talking experience.

"Sit down," he said, almost yawning. Was she actually _boring_ him? She was about to storm out of a classy restaurant in a rage and he was just calmly suggesting she sit back down? Her eyes snapped back to his.

"Tell me one thing, Chuck." He looked at her expectantly. She sat back down in one big breath. "If I told you what you wanted to hear now, would it even matter?"

"I don't follow." He blinked innocently. What irritated her most was the fact that he _actually_ looked _confused_. She resisted the urge to scream and met his eyes again.

"Let's pretend for one second you care about someone other than yourself, okay?"

He looked like he was about to argue that point. Maybe he would have argued that he cared about Eva, that he cared about a lot of people before _she_ came in and ruined it. But apparently he stomached on and let her continue on in the hypothetical proposition she was beginning to explain.

"Okay…"

"Great." She folded her hands in front of her on the table, pushing the plate away. She would tell Chuck the truth, indirectly, take a grape and then head for the bathroom. She had purged on an empty stomach before. It would hurt more, but she could do it. And the best part was the fact that Serena wouldn't have the slightest clue when she got back. She knew telling her that she went to brunch with Chuck would open up a lot of questions she wouldn't want to answer, but getting around them with a few cleverly concocted responses was natural to her now.

"If something horrible happened to someone you know," His hands clenched on the napkin in front of him, but kept looking at her. "Someone you loved," she clarified, her voice sounding soft now. Her face echoed that deep curiosity laced with its gentle touch. "But there were several unresolved issues and soon everything went wrong, there was always anger—"

"Blair—"

He sounded very uneasy now, like he'd just clued in to the fact that she was talking about them. But she wouldn't let him ask questions. She'd make him sit and take everything she had to dish out, because she wasn't going to fight back. She was just going to tell him the truth. Sort of.

"Would it matter if she said what her feelings _really_ were?" She looked deep into his eyes, pleading for her life. For a moment she forgot all about purging the second she left the table. She was back at the foot of her stairs, telling Chuck she still didn't love him. She was at that train station in Paris, telling him that she didn't love him anymore, her teary-eyed gaze screaming the opposite as she begged him to come back where he belonged. _With her_. Now, she was very willing to tell him she had lied about so earnestly and yet so very pathetically. All he had to do was say _yes_.

"No," he said. Her eyes closed and a tear slid down her cheek of its own accord. Her breath caught in her throat.

"I have to go," she made out, avoiding his eye contact and standing to her feet successfully. Just as she was halfway around the table, she heard him make a sound that could have been some sort of cursing. He called after her, telling her to stop, to come back, but she'd already stopped too many times, come back too often. He was her end all but she refused to believe it right now. She kept walking, passing table after table. Then, she pushed the swinging bathroom door open and locked it behind her. No one else was in the room thankfully. It would have been awkward to explain to some other woman why she'd just locked them in. She strode purposefully to one of the empty stalls and locked that door too. She got down on her knees and pulled her hair out of her face, wishing to hell that she'd been smart enough to bring some sort of clip or tie. Now she could only clutch the toilet with one hand and the transfer would have to be quick from her almost throat to the white U-shaped plate.

She managed.

…

She didn't come back ten minutes later and he knew that she wasn't going to. He looked at the food on the table and couldn't help but thinking what a waste it all was. Not the food. He could have cared less if that had been wasted, regardless of how long it had taken to prepare. It was the inviting Blair to brunch that he'd regretted the second she left the table. _He should have gone after her_. He should have thrown away his pride and his stupid need to get revenge, and he should have gone after her. He shouldn't have said no. _God, what had he been thinking?_

What was the reason he even invited her to come with him anyways? Was it to find out her secrets, how to destroy perhaps today, maybe the next? Sure, that's what he'd told himself. And most of himself had believed it. After his discussion with Nate the night before, he'd gone out and gotten drunk, gotten laid, and put together the perfect plan. It was probably not best to put together a decent plan at three in the morning when he was drunk off his high horse. He knew for sure he should have thought it through better when there was nothing to say two minutes into the brunch. Of course she wouldn't just tell him her secrets. She might not be fighting back, but that didn't mean she was stupid. Even if you know where to find the answers to the test doesn't mean the key will just come over and tell them to you. No, you have to maneuver a way to find them strategically. Today, he'd had no strategy whatsoever. He sucked.

_Did she really still love him?_ She'd lied _both_ times before? He'd believed her through and through when she'd told him twice that she didn't love him, teary-eyed or not. It was no doubt painful telling someone you'd loved for so long that the feelings were no longer there. That was more than enough to prove her declaration correct. After what he'd done, there was no reason for him to question her. But now he didn't know what to believe. The second time he'd asked her, the question had mostly been built up on fury for her destroying his relationship with Eva, the relationship that anyone would have called to be true, the relationship – the _woman_ – that had come to define him. He had become a freaking philanthropist. The Chuck Bass he'd forced himself to turn back into would not – _could_ _not_ – believe that he had gone into that lifestyle _willingly_. It didn't matter what it had meant then and what it meant now. What was important was that Blair had destroyed that little piece of happiness he'd been able to create. If she didn't love him, then it meant that she hadn't been jealous. She'd just set out to hurt him. She'd just acted incredibly well when she pleaded with him to come back to New York. It had all been a scheme to hurt him like he'd hurt her. The realization of that made him almost think he deserved to lose Eva by the hand of Blair's schemes. She was just retaliating from what he'd done to her. And now he was fighting back because of what had happened at her hand. It was what they did. They hurt each other and they always fought back. No matter what happened, the pattern was still clear. All their "fights" were connected to the one before it. They would have never lasted even if he hadn't slept with Jenny Humphrey the night Blair decided to forgive him, the night everything went wrong and his life changed forever.

He tried very hard not to get depressed. He couldn't be depressed. Not after this. Not after all that had happened. Not even because of what had happened recently. He'd become a completely different person. He'd been proud of that person, and Eva was at the center of that. She'd given him a happiness that he'd never been able to achieve with Blair, despite her efforts. He didn't blame her for her inability to do so. He'd been a mess from the beginning. It wasn't her fault _that_ Chuck Bass was impossible to fix. The question gnawing at him though, regardless of the fact that he'd been pushing it down fiercely from the beginning, was if all the feelings wrapped up in Eva had been _real_.

Twenty minutes. He'd been sitting there twenty minutes waiting for her, dwelling on thoughts that were not safe for him to dwell on if he planned on destroying Blair Waldorf to avenge Eva's place in his life. He had to have no sympathy. He had to stay focused, find her weaknesses, remember what it was like to manipulate the people who hurt him. He'd been ruthless and fantastic at it. People knew him for his schemes and manipulations. No one trusted him. _Almost_ no one. Well, no one would now, not even Blair Waldorf, not even Nate. No one would be able to believe a single word that came out of his mouth or any action that looked like it came with good intentions.

"Your check, sir." A waiter approached him and placed a soft leather black case containing his check on the detail. Chuck didn't move, and after waiting one very long lingering moment for his customer to give some sort of sign of accepting, the waiter walked away.

Chuck opened the case and looked absentmindedly at the check. He'd go to the cashier today. It suddenly bothered him to stay at this table another second. He could still smell her. He couldn't smell Eva anymore, couldn't even remember what she smelled with, and it'd only been a week. It disgusted him. Three months with the woman that had changed his life and he couldn't even remember her smell.

He stood to his feet and handed the case and his credit card to the cashier at the front of the restaurant. The somewhat attractive girl smiled brightly at him and punched in some keys on the computer in front of her. Chuck sighed a little testily. He needed to get _out_ of this restaurant. It already held memories he wanted to erase. A little noise just beyond the desk caught his attention though. It looked as if one of the employees was looking quite frantic as he babbled on about something leaving him quite distraught to his manager. The manager's eyes widened a little, but then he hastily gave him the instructions he needed and pushed him away. Chuck watched who must have been a new employee as he sped off.

"Excuse me…" he looked down at her nametag placed just above breasts that seemed insignificant and almost nonexistent in that moment. He would scold himself later for such lack of observation. "Brittany?"

She looked up at him and smiled brightly, handing his credit card back to him. "Yes, sir?"

"What is going on back there?" he asked, gesturing behind her. She turned her head to look at the slightly ruffled manager. She turned back towards Chuck.

"It's none of your concern, Sir. Just some minor employee complications." She laughed a little. "First day and all." She shook her head playfully, as if she were recalling her first day.

"Hmm."

She blinked at him, still smiling. He sighed, thinking how she was by far trying too hard to impress him, even if he was one of the richest men in Manhattan.

"Forgive me for being curious, but…" he trailed off, baffled by his behavior and trying very quickly to recover. He was practically _apologizing_ to the 'trying too hard' cashier. She parted her lips, obviously torn between 'the customer is always right' and 'speak with discretion'. The manager walked up behind her just then and placed a hand on the counter. He looked up at Chuck with genuity.

"It truly is no concern of yours, Mr. Bass. There's just been a bit of a puking incident with a young girl in the ladies' bathroom. She has recovered though, said she just had the flu. The employee who approached me belatedly found out and was quite troubled. First day and all." He chuckled.

"Right."

"Is there anything else you need, Sir?" Brittany asked cheerfully. He looked to her once.

"No." He turned his head back to the manager. "Could you tell me what the lady looked like?"

The man scrunched up his eyebrows, trying to remember. He frowned when he couldn't recall right away, but then a smile lit his face, and Chuck strangely enough found himself greatly anticipating and hopeful for the answer.

"Brunette curls," he said. Chuck froze. His blood ran cold as ice as the man continued to describe her. There was no denying the identical description, and he knew Blair Waldorf had no flu. It was no coincidence she ran off to the bathroom right after he'd denied her either, he was sure. He mumbled a thank-you to the manager and walked away, eventually making his way to his limo.

_Oh, shit_. _He'd made her relapse._

The door of his limo shut without him blinking an eye. Cold sweat burst onto his skin.

…

A/N: Thoughts? I know I made Chuck kind of almost have a pretty good-sized heart in that last scene, which might not seem normal going off of his previous behavior in this story, but Blair basically almost told him she still loves him, so I think that justifies it. Lol. Please review! And please please pleeeeeeeease vote on my poll on my profile! =D I shall try my very best to update soon. =)


	5. Call Me Crazy

A/N: Hey guys. Again, fabulous response. Thank-you so much for that. =) For those of you rejoicing that Chuck has finally gotten a heart (or is at least showing the one he's trying to hide in his own thoughts), don't get too excited. This story has got 11 chapters, and we're only on chapter _5_. That means it's not going to be all rainbows and butterflies from here on out. I think that answers the question for those of you who thought I had Chuck caving in too fast. He was simply rattled by the fact that she basically almost told him she'd been lying before and did actually still love him. On another probably not so great note (wow, I'm terrible today, lol), Chuck is not going to be in this chapter at all. XD No complaints though, I hope. I did have him in 3 scenes in the last chapter and one of them had his POV. Plus, I know you've all _desperately_ been missing Serena…and Jenny. ;) Haha. Enjoy! =D

*Please vote on my poll on my profile if you haven't! Thank-you so very, very much to those of you who have. =)

*I own nothing. No copyright infringement intended.

…

**Ch.5—Call Me Crazy**

"Have you ever considered…" she began carefully, "fighting back?"

Blair looked up from the game of cards they had spontaneously begun to play and stared at her best friend blankly. The question was completely out of the blue, she thought. Serena didn't ask questions like that. She avoided them at all costs. Serena didn't want to get involved in a fight, she wanted to prevent them. She always had good intentions, and warring hardly left a good result. Blair was very convinced of that this time around. It was strange having their roles reversed.

"Excuse me?" she asked after an eternity.

"Well, okay," Serena placed her cards down facedown absentmindedly, clearly focused on what she had to say. Blair spazzed.

"Your cards!"

"What? Oh! Oh my god!" Serena quickly gathered up her cards and attempted to turn them all back over, the action causing the other cards to mix and become disarrayed on the table. She was so frantic because of her absolute failure at trying to fix the set-up the cards that she accidentally hit Blair's hand. Her cards fell to the table too, having held too loosely after the initial panic. Serena gasped.

"Oh my god…" she whispered, her hands slowly coming up over her mouth. Blair sat stock still for another painstakingly silent moment. Then, she slowly looked up at Serena who timidly then looked up at her. She fell back in her chair placed a hand over her eyes.

"You were saying?" she asked lazily. Serena laughed a little nervously.

"Right." She cleared her throat. "Um…" Blair opened one eye, lifting the fingers over that side of her face to witness Serena's frowning face. The card incident had clearly affected her memory. It put Blair on the edge of both laughter and scoffing. "Oh!" Serena said suddenly. Blair placed her fingers back over her eye and sighed. The blonde laughed a little nervously.

"Okay, so I know this totally unlike me."

"Mmm."

"But, well," she sighed. "I don't want you getting hurt again, and it's not like he wouldn't deserve what's coming to him. He can stand on him own two feet if you do really put a dent in his far too cocky demeanor. I mean, this is over the top, even for him. We've all seen him at his worst, you more than anyone. You can't honestly tell me that he's never been this bad."

Blair lifted her hand off half her face again. She saw her best friend's concerned, pleading face and took her whole hand off her face. She sighed and straightened in her chair. She looked about the room, tears surprisingly taunting her by reaching her eyes. She wanted an answer, _any_ answer, something besides warring with Chuck Bass. She loved him. She couldn't hurt him like he was hurting her.

"He hasn't done that much damage, S," she told her pointedly, gathering up the cards and dealing them out again for a new game.

"He almost got me suspended from Columbia." Blair glanced up at her.

"You'll bounce back," she said simply. "You're Serena Van der Woodsen." Serena sighed.

"He _ruined_ your party," she pressed on.

"He's done it before and I've survived. There will be other parties," she said nonchalantly, shrugging and continuing to deal out the cards.

"He's said hurtful words to you, like that he regretted you? And that everything you did for him didn't mean a thing?" Blair froze. That reminder cut her deep. It wasn't enough to make her want to hurt him in return, but it still hurt like hell. Chuck Bass could do many things, but what always hurt the most was the words he said. It hadn't mattered nearly as much when he held her or kissed her as when he told her he loved her and _meant_ it. _Then you'll never have me_ hurt more than him climbing off of her and rejecting the lusty image of her in all her lingerie-clad glory. Mocking her declaration of love and calling her his wife with such despicable venom in his voice hurt more than him sleeping with Vanessa and becoming obsessed with that secret society whore. She couldn't tell Serena he didn't mean those words now, because she never really knew what he meant until he cleared up the 'misunderstanding' when everything was fine again. A big part of her truly believed things would never be fine again, especially after their interactions the day before. He was so heartless he had come to the place that it was too late for her to tell him she loved him, that it didn't matter anymore because he didn't want her anymore. _I don't want you anymore, and I can't see why anyone else would_. Just like before.

"B." Serena put her hand on her best friend's. Blair's hand had frozen in her process of dealing out the cards. Her eyes snapped up to hers.

"Anything else?" she asked, trying very hard to sound composed. She felt so very weak and like she was shaking on the inside. Serena didn't sigh in frustration like she had expected. Her eyes were very focused, very determined to win this argument, despite how high her best friend's walls were built up.

"He brought Jenny back," she said. Blair gulped. Serena's fingers curled around her hand and gripped tighter, forcing her best friend to see the seriousness of the situation. "He made you…hurt yourself."

Blair blinked away tears that miraculously didn't make it to her skin. She pulled away from her best friend, shook herself out of the spell she'd cast on her, and shakily exhaled. She continued to deal out the cards. "He didn't do that," she insisted. "I was just stressed."

"Because he'd been tormenting you," she said, exasperated.

"_No_," she ground out, refusing to meet her eyes. She ignored her frustrated sigh. The blonde breathed in and out for awhile, trying to get some sort of control over the situation.

"Maybe something with Bass Industries?" she suggested hopefully, tilting her head to the side. Blair continued to busy herself with making sure the cards were neat and perfectly straight in their set-up.

"Or…_The Empire_?" she continued. "After all, he _deserves_ to lose it after what he did to you there." Blair's hand stiffened, but she continued to keep her hands busy with pointless little obscurities on the cards' set-up. She couldn't even remember what game she was setting up for, but straightening little piles seemed to make sense in her racing mind. It was the only thing that did. It held her back from the brink of destruction. "I've always thought so, at least," she said quietly.

Blair ignored the suggestion once again. She forced herself to believe that for once in her life Serena was actually making sense when it came to Chuck. She looked up at her best friend, forcing a teary-eyed smile. She could see she wasn't hiding her emotions very well by the look on the her best friend's face.

"The only thing I've ever been able to use against him is _myself_," she said, flipping over a card as if the action complimented her words perfectly. "He's already lost me, so I have no ammunition to use against him that, as you say, would 'put a dent in his far too cocky demeanor'." She exhaled deeply, slowly, then she whispered, "and I don't want to."

Serena pursed her lips. She could find nothing else to say. She looked at her best friend intently, searching in her expression for some vulnerability she hadn't already used to her advantage. She found none.

"Your turn," Blair murmured, making a small gesture with her head towards the new game of cards. It took a few seconds for Serena to snap out of the haze she'd fallen into, but she finally looked down at the table and figured out what game they were playing.

"Oh, right," she said numbly. She made her first move.

…

It suddenly felt very wrong for her to even be walking into the building. It hadn't been that way the last time she'd come here, but she'd been in a rush to get her phone and leave, to avoid as little direct confrontation as was possible. She hadn't stopped to see where she was or let memories waft over and through her. She'd been on a mission, and she'd left as soon as if it was complete, trying to erase his hurtful words from her memory. This time it was different. She'd walked into the Empire and completely frozen two steps into the large hall. The concierge loomed in the distance, tempting her to get a room. She wondered how very scary it would be to be under the same roof as him, even for a night. She was sure he would find out about it rather quickly and continue to make her life a living hell. Somehow, he would use it against her, maybe have Gossip Girl send out a blast that she was desperate and lowering her standards to the position of… well, she didn't know what he'd do. She decided to ignore the endless possibilities he already held in the palm of his hand.

Her heels tapped across the floor as she headed directly for the elevators, ignoring the woman awaiting any new guests at the concierge. She didn't want to think about how Chuck might have slept with her. She didn't like that every thought she had now somehow related directly to Chuck. She was grateful when the elevator door closed. She pushed in the button for the penthouse level. She shivered a little and then found herself looking up into the discreet camera in the corner at the top of the little transport. She remembered all the times she and Chuck had spontaneously decided to full out makeout and fuck each other inside right inside the very elevator she stood in now. If she focused hard enough, she could even put herself back into every experience and remember exactly how it had happened, how they'd moved against each other, what she had felt. _Euphoria_. She also remembered when he'd stuck her in there very strategically with Serena. Even if their fight would inevitably end – hers and Serena's then – he did hurry the process along, and she was very grateful. She loved him for things like that. He saved her so many times.

The elevator bell dinged and she stepped out into the suite. She frowned and her eyebrows scrunched together when she noticed the large room appeared to be completely vacant. _Had she really come when no one was there?_ A queasy feeling erupted in her stomach when the possibility of him coming out from behind her and making her jump with his first slithery words occurred to her. She looked over each of her shoulders once and then walked further into the room. She heard someone moving in the other room and froze. Very suddenly she did not want him to be there. She did not want to catch him with some whore, or god forbid, Jenny, even if those were the exact individuals she'd hoped to happen upon, random slut not included. Relief swept through her and she visibly exhaled when she saw Nate come out from behind the corner. _He'd probably been in his room_, she thought.

"Blair," he said, confused. "What are you doing here?"

"I was just wondering if Chuck was around," she said very professionally. Nate did not seem to pick up on it. He looked around behind him a bit, as if maybe Chuck could be hiding somewhere in the suite and he just hadn't realized it.

"No, I haven't seen him since this morning," he said, folding his arms across his chest. "Did you need something?"

"No, no, of course not. I just—"

He cut her off, uneasy smile playing on his lips. "Wait. You're not here to make the next hit in this 'war' you guys have going, are you? Because, if you were planning on it or intend to do it anytime in the future, I need you to inform me ahead of time, so I'm not caught in the crossfires. Being in the middle of a Chuck & Blair war is about the stupidest thing anyone can do."

She laughed lightly and closed her eyes. "I'm not attacking anyone by coming over here, Nate. I'm not playing into his game."

He looked at her skeptically. It was reasonable to assume she was lying as a part of his plan, she thought. But that was not her intention this time. She simply just needed an answer, and then she would go. Then, she would be _glad_ to go, and Nate could go back to sleep for all she cared.

"Okay…"

"I was just wondering if you'd seen Jenny," she said in her fake enthusiastic curiosity. She swung forward a little to see if she could spot anyone in the hallway. She couldn't see much from where she was just a few feet into the room. And, quite honestly, she didn't want to get too close to Chuck's room. Everything, every place, that had ever contained a memory of them – good or bad – threatened her sanity. "Is she around?" she asked.

"Uh…no."

Her brows scrunched together, half in real confusion. He actually sounded a little bit like Jenny being there was not something that usually happened, almost like what it would have sounded like to forbid Chuck to be anywhere near Jenny if they'd gotten together, like how she'd forbidden Nate and Serena to speak together after he'd told her he'd cheated. That hadn't stopped him.

"I mean," he shook his head, shaking himself out of the reverie he'd no doubt put himself in. "She's not working today." He gave a curt nod. "And she doesn't often come in here, mostly the office," he said, briefly wondering if Chuck would maul him later for unveiling that piece of information. Still, he took another leap, pretty sure his best friend wouldn't walk in any second. He took a few steps closer to her. "To be honest, she's never been here, Blair. Not since that night, I mean."

She looked at him as he looked away from her after his last words. He looked like it was him that had slept with her, not Chuck, like he was carrying the burden Chuck seemed to have forgotten about. Maybe mentally he'd taken drugs that let him ignore it.

"Thanks, Nate, for telling me," she said. She smiled briefly and started walking away. She paused by the elevator and looked back at him. "I'd tell you to tell Chuck I stopped by, but I don't think that would be good for either of us."

He smiled a little and nodded. She stepped inside the opened elevator doors.

…

It was quiet – too quiet – but Jenny was not about to interrupt the silence. She had gotten much more fortunate than she could have ever hoped for and from the one person that hated her the most. She couldn't understand it, but she wasn't about to complain. Sure, part of her wondered how everyone else was going to find out about this, most especially her father. Being sent off to work as an intern with Eleanor Waldorf in Paris certainly had never been part of the plan. There was more than one reason she was overly grateful to Blair for the sudden departure though. She didn't want to be anywhere near Chuck right now. It wasn't that he thought she'd take advantage of her. It was clear that most of his _subtle intimate touches_ were just to push Blair's buttons when they were in front of her. Still, there was an uneasiness in him that she didn't want to be around. He was unstable, and she wasn't the only one who noticed it. Nate had purposefully taken her aside when they'd gotten inside the Empire and insisted on taking her out to lunch where he told her he would make sure she'd never have to go into his suite. She'd only wished Blair had noticed it then. She'd never been a threat to begin with.

Of course, initially, working for Chuck had seemed like a good idea. She hadn't been lying when she'd told Blair it would be a great opportunity, working for one of the richest men in Manhattan as a first job and all. That was very true, and she could have used the experience. She had a few days ago, so that counted for something, she supposed. The fact that she left the job after less than a week of actual work days would not look good on her resume though. She sighed. Fashion had been her dream for as long as she could remember though. She could not complain. In the end it had been her decision, and she didn't want to be in the situation of being a pawn in the midst of one of Chuck and Blair's bloody battles. She'd been there, and done that, and had no intention of becoming another casualty in this war of the exes.

The sound of airplanes was heard overhead. Jenny looked out her window to see the many planes arriving and departing. She hadn't been on a plane in a long time. She couldn't remember what it felt like. Blair had assured her she wouldn't need to bring any of her belongings, aside from the necessities – whatever was in her purse at the time. She'd complained a little, but the look in Blair's eyes told her it was _do or die_, and she very easily _did_ after that.

In a swift waft of dry limo breeze, Blair handed Jenny's tickets over to her, quickly telling her the directions on how to get to the gate and who would pick her up once she arrived to her destination. Apparently she had to take two planes, the first would go to London and the second to Paris. Blair did not consider her worthy of taking the Bass jet or any other private plane anywhere. The Bass plane would look suspicious, though it wasn't like she could hide this from Chuck very long, but the main reason was because Blair was still pissed and hurting. She no longer wanted little Jenny Humphrey out of just New York. She wanted her out of the country. Close to her family was not exactly what she wanted either, spending months and months with them when she only got a week or so at a time, but she couldn't think of any other alternative. It would be a reason to keep her away at any rate. Fashion was all the rage out there, and from what she heard, Jenny had homeschooled herself before. The supplies would be easily available to her over there as well. She tried very hard not to think of herself as some sort of angel to the girl she hated. She was giving her every opportunity available to her and then some. In the end it would all be worth it though. She wouldn't have a reason to come within miles of Chuck Bass.

The limo slowed to a stop. Blair turned and glanced at the blonde beside her.

"We're here. You can go now."

Jenny nodded once, slowly. She gathered her purse together, clutched the tickets in her hand and reached for the door handle. She paused and turned back to Blair.

"Thank-you for this," she said.

"Yes, yes, it was nothing," she said, her hand rapidly gesturing towards the door so that she'd leave. "Now, go."

"No, I mean it, Blair. You certainly didn't have to help me after what I did to."

"Jenny. Go." She looked at her, her eyes very insistent.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. Blair's eyes did not falter for an instant. She would not let this little slut get the best of her. She would not let know that what she did and said meant anything at all, especially in regards to Chuck.

When Blair said nothing more and just continued to glare. Jenny finally nodded and got out of the car. She walked towards the large building and went inside, trying to build herself up again and regain the courage to start her life over again. Blair erased the memory of the entire car ride the second they turned the corner. Her head fell back on the limo seat and her eyes closed. She breathed in and out for a long time, calming herself. The images of Chuck and Jenny had not been intense this time like they'd been when she'd seen them a week ago together, Chuck no doubt trying and succeeding in tormenting her. After awhile she felt that maybe she would be alright. Jenny was gone and had no good reason – other than a pointless family reunion, which she hoped she would try to avoid – to return. Blair's threat was reinstated.

Chuck ruined everything right then by calling.

"Very daring move, I'm impressed."

She sighed. "You're spying on me I take it."

"One of my many talents."

"I'm sure the terrorists would love to have you on their side," she drawled. "You could probably even avoid execution or exile if you play your cards right. Money buys everything after all."

His mouth hung open a little, but managed to close and curve into a smirk. "Waldorf, I'm impressed. I haven't heard you this cheerful in awhile."

"What can I say?" she shrugged. "I just overcame a huge hurtle in my life," she said brightly, wanting to gag at how fake she was being. Not that it mattered though. After yesterday, all she could feel around him was _numbness_.

"Deciding to fight back? Overcoming that moral restraint of yours enough to attempt to make me suffer?"

She laughed. "God, no." His brows furrowed in confusion but she wouldn't let him interrupt her. "Yes, Jenny is gone, but not to hurt you, to save me. I'm just softening your blows, not creating my own."

Click.

…

A/N: Apparently I lied. Chuck was in there for a brief second and a half. Lol. Please review. I hope to update soon. Let's just hope tomorrow's episode won't affect my updates. Though, school does start up again, so you may have to accept an update every few days instead of every day. Heh. Thanks for reading!

*Please vote on my profile poll if you haven't!


	6. Calling in for Back Up

A/N: 20 reviews per chapter has been a pretty constant thing with this story, so I'm not posting this chapter until I have at least that much (in case you were wondering about the delay, lol). But OMG. I just got a FANTASTIC spoiler involving details (as in _dialogue_ and _surrounding events_) about the hot Chair hate sex coming up. *gasp* I am way excited now, especially since in the following episode they have an epic scene that may smooth things over…sort of. *shrug* But I won't give away anything more b/c I KNOW there are some of you out there who don't want to be spoiled! *used to attempt this* *failed miserably* lol. Anyways, I will still have to watch in agony through the next 2 or so episodes, but then there will be some sort of relief, and if not, at least I'll have a hot Chair sex scene on my hands and I'll be able to vid again. XD haha. Please review. =) And vote on my profile poll if you haven't!

*I own nothing. No copyright infringement intended.

P.S. if you want to know more about the spoilers, just let me know… ;p It's not too much but it's enough to get you excited. Hehe.

…

**Ch.6—Calling in for Back-Up**

She felt rested, at peace. With Jenny safely out of town, there was no threat to her insanity except for Chuck causing havoc on her life. That would be treacherous to be sure, but at least it wouldn't involve the little slut hanging all over him. Plus, she hadn't purged intentionally in the last thirty-six hours. Things were looking good. She had a few classes today, but it was nothing she couldn't handle. She had her minions to do what she said, Serena to keep her smiling face genuine and keen eyes to dodge Chuck when necessary. Things were good.

Tumbling out of the bathroom with less than appreciable fashion, came Serena Van der Woodsen, messy blonde locks and all. Blair smirked, and watched her best friend. She walked easily across the room and shook her head. Serena had yet to open her eyes all the way.

"Either you were up late or…" she paused, thinking about it briefly. "Yeah, that seems about the only option." She smiled. Serena head snapped up at the sound of Blair's voice. Her eyes widened as she noticed her crossing the room. She lunged at her just as she was about to pick up her phone on the far end table.

Blair shrieked, collapsing onto the floor beneath her.

"S! I was not prepared for tackle football!" She started pushing her off, but the blonde held her ground. Finally, Blair gave up and sighed loudly, particularly frustrated. "What _is_ it? Get off me!"

Serena reached for Blair's phone and snuck it into her hand, daintily climbing off of her best friend who huffed and smoothed out the nonexistent wrinkles in her nightdress. She stole back her phone in an instant, frowning at the intrusion. Serena stood to her feet and tried to snatch away the device again, but her best friend backed off, looking bewildered.

"What has gotten into you, S?" She pranced over back to her side of the bed and sat down, tucking her legs beneath her. Serena sighed.

"Don't read that…"

"Oh please, I'm sure it can't be that bad this early in this day," she chirped. The blonde slipped into a chair on the opposite side of the room, very tense and very still.

**Good Morning, Upper East Siders. I know you're all dying to hear the juiciest gossip, but before I spill on those less important individuals, I thought I should confirm to you the ever awaiting question. Yes, Bass did spend more on the French fling that flew away than he ever did with our favorite little Queen Bee. Sorry B, guess you just didn't make the cut. Bass had business elsewhere.**

** -Gossip Girl**

A shudder ran through her, but before she could fully digest what she had told herself shouldn't have been a big deal at all, her phone rang and with very shaky hands she picked it up.

"H-Hello?" She cursed herself for the inability to instantly recover. She cleared her throat. "Hello?" she asked again.

"Miss Waldorf." She wiped the sweat off her forehead, her heart slowing down when she realized it was not the Basstard rubbing in her most recent demise, but rather the dean of Columbia. She'd been an excellent student thus far and continued to do so in the future. She was done with schemes, except those that got her ahead, and despite the ruined party the other night and several road blocks to success that had gladly been stomped on her by Chuck Bass, she could not possibly be in trouble, and certainly not so early in the morning. It was barely 8:05.

"I'm afraid we need to arrange a meeting in my office."

She would have been elated that she'd been so singled out if his voice didn't sound so glum, so disappointing. She couldn't take this as an opportunity to look better than the situation. Had she done something wrong? Was she too much of a model student? She considered the possibility for a second.

"What would be the grounds for this meeting?" she asked politely.

"I need to talk with you in private about the circumstances surrounding your possible expulsion."

Her fingers were shaking again. _Expulsion? She'd hardly started school!_ Barely a week or two in and the Basstard had managed to get her _expelled_?

"I…I don't understand, sir. I haven't done anything wrong. School just started two weeks ago."

The dean sighed on the other end. Blair got incredibly nervous. She was fidgeting like mad, vaguely aware that Serena was doing so on the other side the room. Either she had already known about this or she was very quick in reacting to a one-sided conversation.

"Look, this isn't something I want to discuss over the phone, Miss Waldorf, but I will inform you that it wasn't anything you've done since attending Columbia. It is something in your records from your high school that I seemed to have missed, everyone in admission seemed to have missed it as well. I am only too glad we found it now. We can't have this kind of behavior allowed on our campus, even if it has been forgiven and dealt with in the past."

"I…I…"

"Does this afternoon at 3 work for you? I gather you know where my office is," he said very professionally. Through her very muddled mind, she managed to clear a place to recall her schedule.

"Y-Yes, that works fine," she said very softly.

"I will see you then, Miss Waldorf. I suggest you bring a very good explanation."

"Of course," she said, her mind still going blank. The click on the other end sufficiently ended the conversation, but it was not until Serena's concerned voice and the operator hit her eardrums that she finally hung up her cell. Slowly, she turned to look at Serena, who was now walking across the room to sit beside her. She rubbed her back soothingly.

"What is it?" she asked worriedly. "Who was on the phone?"

"The dean at Columbia," she said after an eternity.

"What did he want?" she asked, confused.

"To meet," she said shakily. "I think Chuck told him about the hazing at Constance." Her fear-stricken eyes finally focused on her best friend whose mouth had dropped open and whose gaze was equally fearful. Blair closed her eyes, tears soaking up her lashes.

"Oh, B." Serena held her close.

"I-I can't believe…"

"I know, I know." Serena rocked her, speaking soothing sounds against her.

"No, you don't." Blair lifted her head and looked at her best friend with watery, piercing dark brown eyes. She sniffled and a breath caught in her throat. "I almost told him I loved him." She closed her eyes and collapsed against her again. Serena rocked her slowly, murmuring how it was all going to be okay somehow. Blair wanted to believe every word that left her mouth as she lay in her arms, but she was unable to. Columbia was her last hope at a decent school. Chuck had given it to her, and now he had just as easily taken it away.

….

It was different this time than it had been the day before, riding up the elevator to the penthouse suite in the Empire. Then she had been going up to give Chuck a piece of her mind, or to get some clue what he was up to, maybe to just track down Jenny. _Hell, she didn't know anymore_. But now it was so much different. She wasn't merely coming to give him a piece of her mind or tell him she didn't love him, that she never had, because even if it wounded him she knew she'd never know it. He'd always had a particularly excellent poker face but it had definitely been perfected since he'd decided to rip everything out from under her. Nothing on his face would tell her what he was feeling. She wondered what he did with all those bottled up emotions. She could only guess he pushed them further down with one-night stands and a limitless supply of alcohol, but what did she know about what he did anymore? She couldn't believe she'd almost told him she loved him. He didn't deserve to hear that. Not now, not _ever_. She wasn't coming for that. She was coming to tell him she'd given up, not on fighting him because she'd already told him flat out she wouldn't participate in his declaration of war; she was just giving up on everything. She'd remind him of every single thing she'd done for him that he'd conveniently decided to forget. She would tell him there was no point to living, let him think about _that_ when he slept, _if_ he slept. Let him think that _he_ was the reason she decided to inevitably kill herself. If that didn't break through his cold, heartless exterior, she didn't know what would.

It wasn't all false. She'd relapsed before deciding to cause havoc at the Empire. Classes had blown by without interest and without point. Perhaps she should have taken the time to at least try and enjoy them with the possibility of not taking part in them for awhile looming over her. Three o'clock came far too fast and it fell to pieces like she'd hoped it wouldn't. She'd carried her head high all day, very sure of herself, though unable to think of anything else but that cursed meeting. There was nothing she had to offer though. That Chuck Basstard had ruined everything. Of course that was what he meant to do, she reminded herself, but for someone who had only ever wanted to assure her happiness, he had sure lowered his standards, if he had any standards left at all.

Ding.

His figure stepped out from the hallway. She looked just beyond him to see if anyone was there, any whore, any tramp, if Jenny had somehow flown back just to infuriate her. That would not be tolerated. Though, lately, it didn't seem like she was able to _have_ toleration. Chuck in his robe bothered her. It was true that he didn't always wear it after sex, but it was a common occurrence. It gave her both chills about Jenny and glimpses of the fleeting memories of when _they'd_ been together.

"Blair," he greeted, smiling contently. Her eyes were already narrowed, her head shaking slowly. There would be no false pretenses this time around. She would dive right in. She'd be direct and to the point because there was no longer any gratification in beating around the bush to save herself. The only thing she wouldn't say was that she loved him. That was the one thing she wouldn't tell him because it was the sole part of herself that she was ashamed of. She cursed herself for not being able to get over him. She'd wanted it so many times before, but always in the back of her head she'd thought he'd fight for her eventually and they would get back together. She didn't want that now. His actions mixed with her feelings triggered her "sick" spells every time.

"You have some nerve."

He raised his eyebrows. "Please, have a drink." He gestured towards the bar where two champagne glasses were already filled. He started to walk over to them and despite herself, her brows furrowed in confusion. Still, she followed him. Once he was behind the bar and she was seated on a stool across from him she managed to break free from the brief spell he'd put her under.

"Columbi—"

"Please. Drink." He gestured to her drink and she sighed, taking a sip of it. She would not admit to the fact that she found it extremely tasty, but she was sure that truth was written all over her face. Quickly, she set it down and looked back at him.

"You had no right to take Columbia way from me," she said darkly. He lifted a finger to contradict her.

"Ah, ah, ah, not true. I told you there'd be no limits. No limits means no limits, Blair. It's not a secret code," he said matter-of-factly. Her eyes narrowed.

"But it's _Columbia_," she said desperately. He smirked. "You _gave_ it to me." His eyes flickered up to hers.

"What's that old saying? I gave life to you and I can take it away?" He smiled cockily. "Similar concept." He took a sip of his drink.

She huffed and slumped in her chair. She would not leave. She _wouldn't_. Not until she'd finished what she came here to do. She would not let him intimidate her or push her off the deep end. She would make him stop. She would make _him_ feel the heat of his constant attacks.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked in a small voice. He pursed his lips, looking unaffected.

"I'm pretty sure we've already discussed my motivation on the matter."

She sighed and shook her head. She looked out the window. She'd told herself she wouldn't give in. She wouldn't tell him how vulnerable she was or what she was going, not when it regarded him, not with her broken heart, just her physically dwindling state of health.

"Is this how you repay everything I did for you?" she asked, turning to look into his eyes. His face looked like it'd been chiseled from stone, a terribly icy impenetrable hunk of granite.

"And what _did_ you do for me, Blair?" he asked, sounding amused. She forced herself not to feel.

"What _didn't_ I do?" She paused, waiting for another snide remark from him as he digested her words. She felt so very broken at the moment but as far as he knew she was just about to curse him for his recent actions. "I stood by you when your father died. I believed in you when no one else did, and then when it was only you who didn't believe in you, I still did. I believed in every investment you made, every decision you decided you absolutely had to do. I helped you with your mother. I…" Her eyes closed briefly. The following memories flooding over her like a dagger, twisting hellish pain into her stomach. "I got rid of _Jack_."

"Yes." He nodded. "And then you broke up with me."

"You were trading me for a hotel!" she shouted, bewildered.

"But I didn't," he growled. She scoffed.

"Only because Jack called it off. He had more of a heart than _you_ did."

His eyes got very, very dark. They were almost as dark as hers. There was almost a fierce hatred and evil that set upon his face. He looked cold, freezing. His jaw clenched.

"And then you slept with Jenny," she sighed. "Right when I'd stupidly decided to give you another chance." She shook her head and looked down at the bar, eventually reaching for the champagne glass and taking another swig. When it was empty, she set it back down. Finally she looked back up at him with tears in her eyes. His face was undecipherable. "Because I thought I loved you." She gave a shaky sigh. "I thought that you were worth it," she growled. "I thought we were worth it. I thought, when all was said and done, we were unbreakable."

She slipped off the stool, readjusted her skirt and pushed the empty champagne glass towards him. She waited for him to say something, anything, but all she could hear was the dry air around her. She couldn't believe how close she was to letting those tears out of her eyes, the tears that weren't supposed to really be real. She didn't notice until afterwards in her memories how his face had turned from hard and stony to stiff and regretful, guilty, self-loathing. She didn't notice that his poker face was slipping away.

"I was wrong," she said.

The walk to the elevator seemed so long, endless, like it was taunting her with the possibility of never cutting her connection with Chuck. He would always be there, he would always _mean something_ to her, and at a time like this she didn't want to be reminded of that, because then she couldn't _pull it off_. She wouldn't be able to pull _any_ of this off. She breathed out heavily before turning to face him one more time.

"I'm going to end it," she said, just before stepping into the elevator. She gave no explanation, just stepped inside. Later she would also remember how his face had fallen to depths she'd never seen or even imagined. "But not the way you did."

The doors closed behind her and the suite was left in a crashing silence.

…

She was nervous, she realized. _This was for the best_, she had repeated to herself a million times in the hopes that she'd believe it herself. What really was there left for to do? _Chuck had to be stopped_. She didn't know if Blair had relapsed again, but she knew _for sure_ that he had been the one to drive her to it, and she wasn't about to let him do it again. Blair still loved him, but there was no way he could still love her. If he was willing to torture her like this over Eva then Eva was the only one to keep him from turning Blair into the shell of a woman he'd once loved.

"Hello?"

Serena cleared her throat. "Hello, I don't know if you remember me. My name's Serena Van der Woodsen, Chuck's step-sister?"

The line was silent for a long time. The only thing keeping her from hanging up was the fact that she hadn't heard the dial tone yet. "I remember you," she finally said. Serena breathed a sigh of relief.

"Look, I don't what exactly happened between you and Chuck to make you leave, but—"

"He wasn't over Blair. That's what," she said simply. If Serena hadn't known who she was talking to she would have thought there was a bit of snap to her voice.

"I'm sorry?" She was beyond confused. Eva sighed.

"Blair lied to him and he believed her over me. He's still connected to her. I can't be involved with someone who's still in love with his ex-girlfriend. I'm sorry, Serena. You are a very nice girl, and I know you mean well, but I'm not coming back to Chuck. I flew halfway around the world for him and all the way back for me. I'm trying to start over, trying to…" she trailed off.

Serena bit her lip, very sure she should have interrupted her a lot sooner. She didn't have the right to know all her secrets, the inter-dynamics of her relationship with Chuck. She did for Blair's sake, but she certainly didn't for her own, and yet her mouth didn't work, not when Eva had spoken just now.

"I-I've said too much," she said. Serena shook her head, panicking a little.

"No, no, I'm sure you've needed to vent about this for awhile," she said quickly.

"That doesn't excuse it. I hardly know you, and for all I know you could be just like Blair. You are best friends after all."

"_No_," Serena insisted. "I am _not_ like Blair. I guarantee it. I will not manipulate you in any way." The line was silent. "I swear," she said, sounding a little exasperated.

"Serena—"

"Opposites attract?"

She sighed.

"Chuck's out of control," she said quietly.

"What do you mean?" Eva asked after an eternity.

"I mean, he's out of control. He's torturing Blair for making you leave, manipulating her, making sure everything is stolen away that she wants, that he's regretted everything they've ever had together, I just…she's falling apart."

"You're asking me…to come all the way back to New York…again, just to solve some feud Chuck is having with his lying ex-girlfriend?" she asked, disbelief lacing every word she spoke. Her voice was a little snappy again too.

"I don't think you understand how serious this situation is—"

"I understand perfectly well. You all are rooting for them to get back together, you, Nate, maybe even Dan and Vanessa and Rufus!" she said, suddenly very outraged. "And since every other alternative has not proved successful, you think I can put some sense back into him and make him stop abusing Blair."

"Eva—"

"I have no fondness for Blair. I wouldn't wish any physical harm to her of course, as I wouldn't any human being, but from what you've said—"

"Blair's bulimic," Serena said very softly. She already regretted it. Blair would kill her for relaying that kind of _private_ information to someone she probably hated for how she'd stolen Chuck away from her. But she had no other options. With Chuck torturing Blair, she could think of no one else who even had a _chance_ of getting through to Chuck. There, was of course the possibility that a Chuck & Eva reunion would lead to them reuniting and that would tear Blair apart as well, but Serena had the feeling that seeing Chuck with someone new would at least stop her relapses. It wouldn't be so…_direct_, and after the gossip girl blast and the call from the dean that morning, Blair needed some sort of break. Sooner or later he would try to move on again. She needed to get past this.

The line had been quiet for too long, Serena wondered why the dial tone had not kicked in yet. Then she heard a little bit louder breathing and knew she had no lost the French girl who had given up her homeland for Chuck and maybe might be temporarily able to do it again.

"I'll do it," she said.

"Oh, thank-you so, so much. You have no idea what this means. I—"

"I'm not doing this for Blair," she said very sternly. "She has broken my trust too many times and I won't let it be broken again."

"Yes, I understand completely," Serena said sympathetically. Truly, people that had to experience the wrath of Blair Waldorf usually didn't come out alive. Eva had the extra unfortunate turn of events because she sincerely was a nice, caring, selfless individual. It was always doubly as bad for those types. They never saw the storm clouds coming until the lightning hit them on the head.

"I'm doing this for Chuck," Eva said softly. Serena smiled a little. "He kept telling me I was the reason for his change from bad to good. If that was really true, he shouldn't have become even worse just because I left."

"Thank-you, again," Serena repeated. Her heart soared, except the unease that started to crawl through her at everyone's reactions to the blonde French girl back in town, Blair's most of all. She hoped what she was doing was right. A part of her felt very strongly that it was. But an even bigger part told her that she should have just let nature take its course, because Chuck couldn't be so heartless to the woman he supposedly still loved – according to Eva – for much longer.

"I wouldn't have asked this of you if it weren't absolutely necessary. Oh! And your airfare will be paid for in full – first class," she assured her, probably with too much enthusiasm, she thought.

"You're very kind, Serena," she said quietly. There was a short pause during which Serena tried to avoid the inevitable of facing Blair before or after Eva interacted with Chuck. "I'll call you when I land."

"Great," she smiled, a little uneasily. "Come to the Palace. I'll have an escort waiting for you and we can discuss the next step to take after that."

"Sounds great," she said somewhat cheerfully. "I'll see you soon," she said politely, and hung up the phone. Very slowly, Serena hung up her own phone and pulled it away from her ear. She stared at it for a long time, wondering once again if she had done the right thing. She closed her cell and slipped it into her purse beside the bed. She would have to keep this all a secret from Blair for a few days while Eva was in town, though she doubted she could for very long. Gossip Girl had a way of digging up what was impossible to find.

She switched off the light and slipped into bed. Blair wasn't home yet, but she would be soon, and Serena just knew there would be an even larger cut in her heart that she would have to mend.

…

A/N: 19 reviews? _NINETEEN_ reviews? Really? ONE short. *sigh* Well, I can't wait any longer & I really want to try as much as I can to get in a chapter every day or every other day. Heh. I hope all you wonderful readers are still going to keep reading despite the fact that Chuck is so obviously not going to go this far and doesn't even show any signs of regretting Blair, just hating what she did in getting Eva to leave. *sigh* In fact, from that last scene they had together it almost makes it look like he's hurting her to get her to realize that she still has feelings for him. *shakes head* Awful strategy, but it has worked for him in the past. Lol. Please review! And vote on my poll if you haven't! *demands*


	7. Bleeding

A/N: Wow. It just blows my mind how many reviews I got – I mean, over _40_? Holy CRAP -& SO FAST too! But…*sigh* I have a huge apology to make. Only a couple of reviewers mentioned this to me, but if only one person had mentioned it, I would have felt inclined to say this. I had no right to threaten all of you with delayed chapters just b/c I didn't think I had enough reviews. That is selfish, just as those few reviewers pointed out. I was just excited because I've never gotten this many reviews this consistently in any of my other stories. I really hope I didn't lose any readers/reviewers because of this, & if I have I truly hope you will come back. All of you are such a blessing to me. You've caused me so much joy & I was taking advantage of you by doing this. In all truth, I posted the last chapter right when I finished it. I would have never followed through with my "demand/threat". I'm just not patient enough to. Lol. I would still really enjoy it if you all would keep reviewing, and not just for the sake of needing a chapter faster. XD ha. I hope I haven't offended any of you by this. I've only demanded a set number of reviews a couple times in other stories & I never followed through there either. Lol. Hope you'll still keep reading & reviewing nonetheless. I'm lovin your enthusiasm, and the excessive reviews definitely gives me more motivation. Heheh. I just really can't believe how addicted to this story some of you are. Just wonderful. Thank-you so much. Again. Heh. Please vote on my poll if you haven't already, lol. Now, go read and review already! XD Haha.

*I own nothing. No copyright infringement intended. =)

…

**Ch.7—Bleeding**

Her eyes fluttered open. She took in her surroundings and realized they were the same, just as they'd been the four other times she'd waken up in the middle of the night. Only now, it was morning. She'd gotten home late – really late. She'd made the driver drive around for miles. She hadn't wanted to break down to Serena right away, but she knew she'd probably do it this morning. When she finally got home at three in the morning, Serena was in a deep sleep. Screaming at the top of her lungs wouldn't have woken up the blonde beauty. Blair figured it was safe.

This time she'd taken precautions. She'd gone to the bathroom down to the hall instead of the one attached to her bedroom. Serena might be out like a light but she did have very close to a sixth sense of when her friend was in trouble. She couldn't risk it. She'd gone to the bathroom, kept the lights off, turned the water on soft to enough to not echo much into the hall but hard enough to cover up any nearby sound that might bounce off the walls and through the door down the hall to Serena. She'd shivered when she'd done it, goosebumps covering every inch of her skin. She felt it especially on her long uncovered hands and most of her legs. Going down on her knees in the dark with the water running and chills shooting up her spine made her feel very much like she was in a horror movie. But still, she strove onward. This time she'd also brought a hair tie with her – more precautions. She hadn't watched herself as she put her hair back and wondered what she looked like. She contemplated getting up, turning on the lights and staring into the mirror for awhile. It would certainly motivate her current set goal, but she was so weary. Chuck's blank, infuriating, amused stares echoed in her mind. He'd taken Columbia away. Columbia. That was the one thread she had left to keep her steady besides Serena. It was as if everything that he'd done for her was being undone. She couldn't even _contemplate_ forgiving him because everything he did shouted that he could care less about receiving her forgiveness.

Those thoughts kept her going when stray hairs fell into her face as she gripped the toilet tightly, purging into it. It was Chuck that gave her the courage to keep plunging her finger into her throat over and over and wait for the nasty substance to rise up and pour out of her mouth and into the rippling water. A couple of times she thought that maybe she should stop, that she'd been rid of this disease for so long, and she shouldn't let a couple of cruel manipulations and heated words from Chuck – of all people – get to her. But she couldn't help it. She loved him, but she couldn't want him – she couldn't, not after what he'd done. And now she wondered…if any of it had ever been worth it.

She shivered when she was done, but the goosebumps were all gone. Her skin had warmed. She washed her face in the darkness, got to her feet and braced herself for the long walk to the bedroom she shared with Serena. Soon enough, she was safely tucked in bed. Serena unconsciously curled around her and eventually Blair relaxed. She felt safe, safer than she'd felt in that cold, dark bathroom. But it wasn't enough. A few hours later, nightmares of Chuck woke her up. She tried to ignore them and go back to sleep, but another hour later and they'd woken her up again. With very unsteady feet, she managed to untangle herself from Serena's clinging figure, and walk back down the hall. This time she looked at herself in the mirror, with the lights on, before getting down on her knees.

She knew she had to tell Serena something. Keeping everything bottled up inside was not helping matters, but she just couldn't let herself give in and tell her all about her several relapses. How many had there been? Four, since the first one? She shuddered and shook herself from her sleepy state. She turned her body to see her best friend flipping through a magazine beside her. Slowly, she sat up in the bed and leaned against the headboard.

"Hey," she said, tossing the magazine to the side. "What's up? I didn't hear you come in last night." She frowned briefly. Blair attempted a smile. _That's because I didn't come in last night_.

"I was out late." She shrugged. Immediately Serena's face transformed from curious to concerned. Blair felt uncomfortable under her gaze.

"B…" she began. Blair sighed, resigning herself to the inevitable. She knew she'd have to the minute she'd woken up for the fifth time, just five minutes ago.

"S, I…I have to tell you something." She took a deep breath. Serena sat up and leaned against the headboard like Blair had been doing. She pulled her knees up against her and held her arms tightly around them. Though feeling uncharacteristically nervous, Blair told her everything that had happened with Chuck the day before and everything with the brunch. A variety of emotions crossed Serena's face during the summary but when she was finished a tense stillness was evident in her. Finally, her features relaxed.

"It's going to be okay, B," she said, rubbing her hand along her best friend's arm. Blair, for the first time, visibly showed her disbelief on the comforting words.

"S, I know you mean well, but…" She sighed. Serena shook her head.

"No, B," she said, insistent this time. "I mean it this time. This is not just me trying to be comforting to you." Blair blinked.

"What are you talking about?"

Serena took a deep breath. "Okay, I know maybe you won't approve of this, especially some of the information I relayed to her—"

"_Her_? What is going on?" She turned her body towards her. "Who did you talk to about this?"

Serena swallowed quickly. "Chuck is torturing you, Blair, and you've hardly been eating. I can see it. I know this has to be affecting you physically too. He has to be stopped."

"S…"

"There's only one other person that's ever been known to get through to Chuck."

"Oh my God." She turned her head to look down at the blanket, feeling dazed. Shivers erupted through her. "Lily?" she squeaked hopefully. Silence settled between them, and it completely answered her question. She didn't dare make another guess, not when she knew the truth. Things had gotten too serious to put on a façade.

"I got Eva, Blair," Serena said quietly. Very slowly, Blair turned her head to her best friend, tears glistening in her eyes.

"How could you?" She breathed. A breath caught in Serena's throat. She'd known this was coming. She'd known it all along. But she'd hoped it wouldn't be this painful. She should have known better.

"Blair—"

"No!" She threw the blankets off of her and she stood to her feet.

"Blair."

"How could you? After all I did to get her to leave, you've gotten her to come back?" She scoffed, completely infuriated. "What did you even say to get her to come here?"

She swallowed hard. "I just…told her about the situation." Blair narrowed her eyes on her. "She won't be here for you, Blair. Don't worry about that."

"Well, obviously not," she spat. "I mean, why would she—" Realization dawned on her. Of course, it was certainly possible that Eva might come back because Chuck was emotionally breaking her down, but Blair knew – despite how "good" Chuck's French fling had been, that wouldn't be enough. She'd purposefully broken her and Chuck up. If anything, she'd think she was getting what she deserved, at least temporarily. Serena had told her more. "You didn't."

"B…" she said hopelessly. Blair shook in her head in angry disbelief. She stepped further away from the bed.

"I will never forgive you for this," she spat, her voice low and dangerous. She walked out of the room, ignoring Serena calling out for her. The blonde of course did not give up, as much as Blair would have liked her to. She was persistent just when she didn't want her to be.

"B, wait—" She grabbed hold of her arm. The brunette spun around in a heartbeat so suddenly that Serena nearly smashed into her. She took an unbalanced step back.

"You know why this hurt so much? Why I'm so furious at you?" Serena gulped and said nothing. "It's not just because you called in that _bitch_ because your idiotic mind thinks she can fix Chuck's destructive nature."

"Hey!"

Blair ignored her protest. "It's not even fully because you told her the most private thing about me that only a select group of people know because it's the most shameful thing that is a part of me. My…" her voice wavered. "Bullimia." She took a deep breath. Serena looked at her sorrowfully. "It's not all that," she said. Then suddenly, a sniffle escaped her and a breath caught in her throat. "It's the fact that if you are successful with this, it's proving to the whole world that I am no longer the only person that can can affect what Chuck does. I can no longer be the only one to change his mind with something as serious as this." She shook her head, tears flying down her face. "It means I really _have been_ replaced, and everything that ever made me so important to him is _gone_. If everything else has been taken away, at least I would have had _that_. Now, I have nothing."

She turned around again and fled down the hall, slamming the door of the bathroom behind her. Serena stood still in the hallway, feeling tortured, her heart beating a million miles a second.

…

Going from his bed to the bar for another glass of scotch was probably not the smartest idea he'd had all day, but it seemed he hadn't made a lot of good decisions lately. He was still reeling from his latest conversation with Blair the day before. Regardless if he was trying to ignore the fact that he might have caused her to relapse again – that there could have been other causes, and it might not have even been her at the restaurant! And if it was, maybe she did have the flu. He didn't have to jump to that assumption, the one where he'd caused her the same pain he'd once helped her get through – regardless of that denial, ignorance, of the situation, her words had _hurt_.

They weren't supposed to. He wasn't supposed to get affected by anything she said or did. After all, he had set out to ruin her life, so nothing she did to try to stop him was supposed to _work_. But, God help him, she'd gotten through to him. He'd been outraged when she told him Jack had had more of a heart than he'd had. He hated Jack, more than anyone else ever. He was manipulative, deceitful, and seemed to always get what he wanted, one way or another. It was definitely a Bass trait, he decided. Probably best if he didn't have any children, most especially with Blair Waldorf, an equally manipulative, scheming bitch. He shuddered, cursing himself for imagining himself a happily married man forever joined with Blair _Bass_, and little brunette children running around calling him _daddy_. He slammed the empty scotch glass on the bar, having finally got there. He wanted to break it into a million pieces. He wanted to throw it across the room and watch as it shattered, just like his life had. He squeezed his eyes shut so the tears wouldn't dribble onto his face. He breathed harshly. The image of if Blair had made it to the Empire State Building before he'd left in a pit of darkness to live his life alone and unloved, before he'd make the biggest mistake in the world by sleeping with Jenny Humphrey, the wanna-be-Blair Waldorf who'd taken everything away from her at one time or another, even if it had been restored eventually – becoming Queen Bee, having Nate as her date to Cotillion, and haven given her virginity to _him_, _her_ Chuck. That was the last straw. But still the image remained with him. He wanted to crush it, to tear it up, to erase every single time it'd interrupted hateful, self-loathing thoughts to show him what could have been. He would have given her the flowers; they would have had dinner on the very top. Then, he would have gotten down on one knee, asked her to marry him, she would have said yes, and he would have spun her around in dizzying circles, told her he loved her and that he'd never hurt her again. He would have sworn by that, and he would have kissed her until they were breathless.

That image – _those_ images – haunted him. They made silent hot tears stain his cheeks every night. They made his eyes burn and his throat grow sore in the midst of every lay who probably thought he was just yelling out in ecstasy; he was picturing Blair as he was slamming into them. He couldn't stand it. He couldn't stand that he'd never had her again, that he'd never be able to hold her in his arms again, that until the end of time she would never again tell him she loved him, because he'd lost her forever. There was nothing left for him but to torture her. It was hate or love, there was no in between for them, not since the first time he'd had her. He could never go back to what they'd been before that. There wasn't a chance it would ever work. It was everything or nothing, and they were the same. If he had nothing, she couldn't possibly have anything either. It was the most selfish thing he had ever done in his life, but he needed to keep that connection with her. He couldn't abandon it with no distraction like he'd had before – new identity, new girl, new life. If that connection was severed, he would surely die of a broken heart. Needing to be around her to steal away whatever she had, whatever she wanted, gave him an excuse to be near her, to see that he still affected her every time before when they hadn't been together. It was the only purpose he had in life now. He _hated_ that she'd reminded him of that.

Ding.

Heels clacked on the floor. His blood ran cold in his veins. _Was she here? Back again to torture him? Could he not have one day of peace?_ All he needed was one more day to pull himself together again, to forget what she'd said and the conclusions he'd come to. He just had to forget and move forward, torture her because he hated her for making Eva leave.

"Chuck?"

His eyes widened. He quickly let go of the empty scotch glass and moved around the bar. He didn't think it was real, possible that he could get so lucky that his distraction would return and save him from this nightmare, yet, there she stood just a few feet out of the elevator, looking straight at him.

"Eva," he breathed. He was frozen to the spot. He noticed she didn't smile. She was here for a purpose, but he wouldn't believe it wasn't for him. It _had_ to be for him. It was a shot in the dark, but maybe Blair had somehow gotten a hold of her and convinced her to come back to him. He was overwhelmed with joy at the prospect. He could live his _life_ again.

"Chuck," she said again, walking towards him. He tried to embrace her but she took a step back. He looked at her with a confused expression on his face. He frowned and his brows fused. "We have to talk." He did not argue. He would take what he could get.

"Of course," he said quickly. He touched her shoulder briefly, a chill rushing through him at the feel of her. "Can I get you something to drink?"

"Water's fine," she said. He nodded and went to find the water he'd long ago abandoned. His stock of alcohol had increased significantly. Finally, he came back to her, a glass of water for both of them – he couldn't let her think he'd gone back to who he'd been. If she was back to stay, he wouldn't have to be that person anymore.

"You don't have to pretend anymore, Chuck," she said. The glass stopped at his parted lips.

"I'm sorry?" he asked. His blood was pumping fast again.

"Aren't you supposed to be drinking your scotch?" She laughed lightly, not humored in the least. Slowly, he set the glass down onto the coffee table. She didn't drink her water and briefly distracted herself by looking down at her splayed hands.

"I heard what you've been doing to Blair," she said softly. His eyes flashed to hers. He didn't dare ask where she'd heard it. Getting on the defensive for something that was obviously true would not bode well for the conversation. "The Chuck I knew wouldn't do what you're doing now."

"The Chuck you knew died when you left."

Her brows narrowed and she tilted her head to the side. "Why?" she asked. His lips parted. "You told me, told all of Manhattan, that I was the reason for your sudden shift from bad to good. If that was really true, wouldn't you have wanted to keep my…memory alive by staying true to your word?"

"You talk as if you were dead," he said quietly, his voice low and dangerous despite himself. She was taken back a little. He scooted forward on the couch and pressed his forearms on his thighs. "Without you here with me, I can't be who you made me into." He made a daring move and reached out to take her hands. She was reluctant but eventually let him. "Please give me another chance, Eva. Don't leave again."

She swallowed hard, but her gaze never left his. "I'm not here to tell you I still want you or to get back together," she said firmly. He dropped her hands.

"Then, why _are_ you here?" he asked, his brows narrowed. He was almost _angry_. "If it's for Blair, I have to say, I hardly expected it after what she did to you, to us. But, coming from you as the angel you are, I can see also why you would come around. It is one of the things that amazes me most about you." He had taken her hands back and was smoothing circles with his thumbs over the back of her hands. Her skin was smooth and soft but there was no movement in her fingers. She was unresponsive.

"Eva?"

She sighed.

"I wouldn't be hurting her anymore if you stayed, because I would have you."

She pulled away and stood to her feet. Panicking, he shot to his feet a heartbeat later. He didn't say anything was too afraid to, and finally she looked up at him.

"I didn't leave because you believed Blair over me," she said, her deep blue eyes piercing into his, forcing him to see the reason so she didn't have to explain it. It was too painful.

"Then, why did you leave?" He was confused. He didn't want to be, but he felt like he might almost have her again. He couldn't risk thinking about Blair too much.

"Because you're still in love with her."

His throat grew incredibly dry. He wanted to deny her statement, but he hadn't been able to before and he wouldn't be able to now. It was too true to life. It ran too deep. Eva, of all people, didn't deserve to be lied to.

She shook her head slowly. "You believing her only proved that to me. I just…" she sighed. "I can't be with someone who is still in love with his ex-girlfriend." He opened his mouth to speak. She cut him off. "And don't offer coming back with me as a means of getting over her. When you really love someone, time and space doesn't speed up the process any quicker than staying nearby would do."

He sighed. "So," he began after an eternity, "what did you come here for?"

She smiled softly, sadly. She cupped the side of his face with one hand. He closed his eyes at her touch and inhaled. He remembered her scent now. It was fresh and in front of him. It was invigorating and spoke volumes of her sweetness.

"I came back to tell you to stop hurting Blair. It's not her fault you're not over her, and even though I forgave you for what you'd done, I'm not sure I would if I had been the one you'd done the damage too." He blinked. She sighed. "Don't be the worst version of yourself, Chuck. Be the best."

Her hand dropped and she turned away, heading slowly back towards the elevator.

"Wait," he managed. She turned to face him. He couldn't find the words though. He didn't know what to say to make her stay. He felt she had spoken too wisely, had silenced him in ways he didn't even imagine he'd be able to be silenced.

"Good-bye, Chuck," he heard her say, and then he realized then that she'd stepped into the elevator. The ding of the elevator reverberated in the back of his mind. He watched her as the doors closed and tried to take comfort in the soft smile on her face.

….

Four times. Well, three times if you didn't count when she'd first come home at three in the morning, but she counted it, because if she didn't, she'd have to accept the fact that she'd come pretty close to relapsing ten times in the last week and a half. That wasn't good. That meant she needed help. That meant more treatments, doctor's appointments, food limitations, being on a constant watch. She'd hated that. She didn't want that again. She didn't want any of this. It was terrifying just to think about. So, she just slipped back into her bed and cuddled a sleeping Serena up against her.

They'd fixed things. Well, to a degree. Serena had apologized, but still pressed how she thought Eva coming back was for the best. Blair hadn't forgiven her, not a chance, she'd thought. But, relapsing left a feeling of loneliness, even if it did do something for her personal image. She'd gone back into her room, slipped in _Breakfast at Tiffany's_ and watched it with Serena in silence. At the end, Serena was asleep and Blair felt alone again, angry, miserable. She would never get the happy ending that the characters in the movie got, that the characters in _any_ movie usually got.

The ding of the elevator annoyed her. She wanted to ignore it, but once again Dorota didn't call up to her. _Where the hell had she been every time someone came in the last week?_ After this, she was going to hunt her maid down and set up a proper schedule. This was getting ridiculous. Very carefully, she unwound herself from Serena's limbs and padded across the room to the top of the stairs. A sandy blonde head of hair greeted her. She groaned inwardly. _Could this day get any worse?_

She cleared her throat and the blonde turned around and looked up at her.

"Can I do something for you?" Blair asked in a no-nonsense tone.

"Blair."

The brunette smiled like the bitch she was, but didn't move. She waited for a response but Eva seemed extremely hesitant. Blair very much hoped her not genuine smile would scare her off. She really just wanted to go back into the bed with Serena. At this particular moment, she probably should have hated her. After all, she had never warned her that Eva was going to see her. But, instead, she just wanted to be with her. She'd forgiven her the second she saw Eva in her foyer, which was strange, but she did not bother with her mental decisions at this point.

"I've just come from Chuck's," she said. Blair heaved out a sigh. Apparently the little bitch had decided to stay awhile. She made her way down the stairs, very sure this was a huge waste of time.

"Ah, yes, Chuck," she said airily. She came to the bottom step and looked at Eva with anything but sincerity. "Are you guys back together then?" she asked brightly. This time the façade was quite evident. Blair made no attempt to cover it up.

"Blair."

The brunette blinked, playing off the oblivious blonde role. Eva pursed her lips.

"No," she shook her head. Blair tilted her head to the side.

"And why ever could that be?" she asked innocently. Then, her façade fell in an instant. "I can think of no other reason why you would come back to New York." Her eyes were dark, cold.

"Blair—"

"Oh, no, I know Serena called you to come back, but you had no business doing that. I know she told you about my…" she paused, clearing her throat. "…condition too. But, for your information, I'm fine. I don't need you here trying to play peacemaker, _none_ of us do."

She sighed and walked to the base of the stairs about a foot away from Blair. She looked into her eyes and the brunette actually looked slightly uncomfortable under her gaze. "I don't like you, Blair," she finally said. "You're ruthless, manipulative and untrustworthy." Blair looked at her, amused. "I'd like to say I don't know what Chuck ever saw in you, but from what I can gather he was once like you, so I'm sure that explains it."

"What's your point, Eva?" Blair asked a little impatiently.

"My point is that even though I can't stand you, you don't deserve to be treated the way he's been treating you. No one should have to be put through that, and certainly not by someone that loves them."

Blair scoffed a little. "Chuck doesn't love me anymore. At this point, I'm finding it hard to believe he ever did." She was holding her ground well, but there was a trickle of sadness in her voice. She was finding it hard to believe, but didn't want to. A thought occurred to her. "If you came to that conclusion because he believed me over you, I really don't think that's a just cause. Chuck and I have known each other since we were kids. We trust each other. Or," she sighed, "at least we used to."

"Well," She took a deep breath. "I just came here to tell you that I talked to him, and I hope it made somewhat of a difference. I don't think he quite sees how much he's hurting you. I was hoping that I could point that out to him, because the man he was before I left was not cruel like this. He was the opposite of what he is now."

Blair stepped down onto the floor from the bottom step. "That's because you weren't dating Chuck Bass," she said knowingly. "You were dating Henry Prince with a lot of money." She turned around and started up the stairs again.

"Blair—"

"Leave," she said.

"_Blair_," she called to her, sounding a little offended.

"Leave," Blair repeated, not looking back. "You've done enough damage already."

Blair sighed, relieved when she heard the ding of the elevator and the closing of the doors as Eva left. She walked back into her room, seeing a now wide awake Serena staring at her from the bed. She sighed again and nearly crumbled right there in the doorway.

"I have to tell you something," she said very quietly. She gripped the doorframe to keep herself steady. Serena looked suddenly very worried instead of considering. She jolted a little, torn between waiting for Blair to come to her or catching her before she fell. Her best friend appeared to steady herself though, and so she stayed on the bed, still slightly tensed.

Blair crawled into bed and tucked herself very close to her best friend. Serena wrapped her arms around her without hesitation and pulled the blankets up over them. Blair sighed shakily against her. She would finally tell her about all the relapses. If she'd almost faltered in front of Eva, she wouldn't last much longer in front of anyone else, let alone Chuck. Someone had to know, because now she was in trouble.

….

A/N: Hope you enjoyed. =) Please vote on my poll if you haven't! hehe. Oh, and FIFTY reviews? You guys are freaking insane. Lol. Thanks! =D And I know it probably wasn't easy for you guys to see Chuck gushing over Eva again, but I think I explained it well enough in his thoughts throughout and especially before. ;p No more of that in the story I promise. Heheh. If it's any consolation, I like almost started bawling in the first & beginning of the 2nd scene. Talk about heartbreaking. *realizes self caused this* lol


	8. No More Retreat

A/N: Omg. I'm so sorry. I got very distracted…but I promise it won't happen again! If it does, you have my full permission to not review on the next chapter that takes forever. Maybe more incentive because this chapter won't be as long as the others…*gulp* Hope you still enjoy!

*Oh & I have a new poll up. I've figured out the 3 top stories I'll be focusing on, but I need to know how it'll go after that. Please vote. ;p

*I own nothing. No copyright infringement intended

….

**Ch.8—No More Retreat**

It wasn't something he _wanted_ to do; it wasn't something he _had_ to do. After three days of what looked like no movement whatsoever, it was his duty as Chuck's best friend to force him to keep living. The first day he'd had a valid excuse because Chuck had been drinking and _he'd_ just recently gotten back from a night out with Juliet. The second day he preoccupied himself with pointless activities, but it had come to the point that enough was enough. He'd gotten the phone call at midnight the night before that had changed everything. Serena had told him exactly the thing that would push him to get Chuck to wake up and smell the damn roses, because they were dying right in front of him. Eva had been there to talk about Blair. That alone was a dangerous thought. He'd had another tense conversation with Blair the day before that, which had no doubt left him on edge. Eva leaving the first time had sent him into a world of hurt. If her leaving again was all that had upset him, he would be sparring with Blair to an even further degree, not lying around in bed waiting for his life to end.

The hallway seemed to go on forever. Nate thought it'd been a long walk making it to the bathroom with the huge weight on his shoulders whether to turn left or right – to the bathroom or Chuck's room – before. Now that he'd decided he was in fact going to confront Chuck and make him get out of bed, the burden seemed even worse. He tried hard not to think about it. He just kept walking. Eventually he made it in front of the door. Now all he had to do was open it. Another difficult task. He sighed and finally raised his hand to open the door.

"Go away, Nathaniel."

The low groan that came from inside the room startled him, but he recovered soon after. The fact that Chuck had sensed him coming before he even opened the door was a good sign, meaning all of his senses weren't completely gone. To be honest, Nate was getting incredibly worried when Chuck only erupted from his room to go to the bathroom. No liquor or prostitutes had been consumed any time since he'd been around during the last three days.

"Chuck." He opened the door and stepped inside, closing it behind him. Chuck didn't say anything. His eyes were half-closed, and Nate couldn't tell whether he was staring at the far wall or the heap of blankets lying on top of him. One of his knees was propped up. The other was half-uncovered. Nate looked at the sight and shook his head. His eyes shifted back to Chuck's barely there conscious face. "We need to talk."

Chuck's drowsy eyes looked over at Nate. The rest of his body did not move, besides the slight twitch coming from two of the fingers on his left hand almost hanging off the bed. Nate cleared his throat and walked further into the room. He wrapped a hand around his chin and tried to think of something brilliant to say. It hadn't gone well the last time, but he knew he had to do something. Despite the way things were between them, he'd promised Serena he'd try to make some progress with Chuck.

"What would you like to talk about, Nathaniel?" His voice rose on a breath of whiny air. He sat up slowly and sat back against the headboard. "Serena or Juliet?" He sounded incredibly weary and more than a little drunk. He should have been surprised since his best friend had not consumed a drop of alcohol in at least three days, but by now it did not surprise him.

"Blair," he said simply. Chuck's eyes darted to his. For a fraction of a second Nate thought his best friend might actually open up to him. When amusement lit his eyes however, he knew it'd only been wishful thinking. He withheld another sigh.

"And here I thought you'd moved on." He folded his hands in his lap. "Never say never they always say."

Nate looked at him strangely, but decided to play the blonde card instead of just feeling it himself. He took on the view of the outside truly believing Chuck Bass hated Blair's guts and was just reliving his most recent ex's second departure.

"Are you _jealous_?" he asked, aghast. Lucky for him Chuck was too far gone to notice the mock tone in his voice. Chuck's eyes flickered up to his, and he swore for the briefest moment his eyes were the color of molten lava.

"Well, are you back together?" The bite in his voice took Nate by surprise. He decided it was probably best not to play anymore games, not when Blair's health was at risk, not when the foundation they'd all stood on for years was shaking at its base and falling apart. It was hard to hold up the temple the four of them had built when the strongest of the four were disintegrating into ash.

"No," he said. Nate saw the relief that fluttered across his face. Silence tempted him but he refused to allow it entry. He cleared his throat and took a few more steps towards Chuck's bed. Surprisingly, Chuck started taking off the covers before he got there.

"What was it you wanted to talk about?" Chuck asked, yawning as he padded his way down the hall to the bathroom. Nate summoned the little patience left in him and followed him, managing to continue the conversation with the door closed.

"What happened with Eva the other day?" he asked curiosly.

The pee literally stopped flowing into the toilet. There wasn't a single sound till a moment later. Coincidentally, Chuck also gasped at that exact moment. Nate pushed himself off the wall and turned to look at the closed door in disbelief.

"Chuck?" he asked cautiously. He heard his brunette friend clear his throat, and relaxed, albeit still feeling rather jolted by the experience.

"I'm still here, Nate," he drawled. Nate rolled his eyes and sighed, leaning back against the wall.

"Well?"

He heard the toilet flush and the sink turn on. More water. No water. No sound. The lock on the door snapped open when the knob turned. Chuck looked at him briefly, like he was surprised to see him there, before starting down the hall to his room again. Nate hastily took off after him.

"Well?" he asked again, straining to hold on to his patience. Chuck stopped and turned to him just in front of his door.

"I don't know what Blair thought she would accomplish by getting Eva to come back and then leave me again. I admit it was a rather clever move on her part, but it only means I'm going to get her back worse. Surely she must know that." He shrugged and turned into the room.

"Wait, Chuck." Nate followed after him, practically falling into him. Chuck said nothing. "Blair had nothing to do with Eva coming back."

Chuck scoffed and walked to the opposite end of the room. He opened up a little cabinet which Nate had not known until then contained some spare bottles of scotch. Perhaps he had been wrong about the abstaining from alcohol bit. Chuck unscrewed one of the lids and drank straight from the bottle. Some of the liquid dribbled down the side of his chin. Nate grimaced.

"Of course she did," Chuck finally said, setting both the bottle and the cap down side by side on top of the little cabinet. He wiped his mouth with silk material of the sleeve of his robe. "All she wants to do is hate me. Making Eva come back and leave again gave her some sort of leverage." He paused. "I guess." He shrugged.

Nate sighed, exasperated, and strode across the room to his best friend. He gripped his arms tightly and Chuck looked at him with hazy eyes. It took him a while to open his mouth and find his voice.

"_What_?"

The blue heat of his eyes was intense. He honestly wished that'd be enough to get through to him, but he knew only one thing was – only one person was. "Serena asked Eva to come back, to talk sense into you."

Chuck blinked.

"_What_?" he asked again, now confused. Nate took a deep breath, repeating his mantra of patience in his mind a good three times before continuing. He released Chuck's arms and just stood in front of him, his eyes never leaving the dusty hazel orbs.

"You wouldn't stop," he said calmly. "And Blair wouldn't fight back, not even when Serena asked her to. She didn't think she had any other choice. Your actions have been making Blair—"

"Shh," Chuck slurred, holding up a hand to stop him. Nate's brows furrowed. He watched Chuck walk across the room. He didn't move when he left the room. But he heard the pounding water of the shower and the slam of the bathroom door. He sighed and eventually made it back to the living room. The couch looked so very comforting.

…

It was weird, packing up everything she owned. Well, in truth, it wasn't _everything_. It was just the necessities, which, to a normal person, would look like everything they owned, but, to Blair Waldorf it was hardly anything, just like what was left of her heart. She sighed and moved back across the room, gathering picture frames, ribbons, and old notebooks. The majority of her clothes were already packed, mostly silk pajamas and negligees though. She hadn't felt much like getting out of bed lately. She doubted it would be any different at the Ostroff Center. In fact, it would probably be worse.

_"B…"_

_ She shivered sitting across from her. It made her wonder why her best friend was not holding her yet. She'd been holding her so easily so often and for so long. She didn't know if she wanted it or was repulsed by the idea now, but it still struck her as odd that it wasn't happening._

_ "Do you…?"_

_ She raised her hand from where it lie on the bed, but appeared very unsure of what to do with it. It seemed to move involuntarily, but before it reached her it lay back down in Serena's lap. Blair sighed._

_ "I know what you're going to say, but I don't want to do that." Serena remained silent, until Blair finally looked up. "I don't want to go there," she said, her voice so incredibly small. Serena bit her bottom lip and warily raised her arm to rub her hand on her best friend's back. Blair sighed, relief flooding through her. She felt so comforted by the blonde's touch, even if the wariness and pain was still alive and well within her. She drew herself closer to her best friend's embrace. Eventually her head was in her lap and Serena was drawing lazy circles along the sides of her face and up and down her arms. Blair closed her eyes and listened to her breathe. The bed beneath her back was soft and warming as well. It helped. All of it did._

_ "I know," she whispered. She pressed a tender kiss to her forehead. "But I don't know what else to do, and I don't think you do either." She sighed. Blair held her tongue. She was too tired to fight back. "You'll be safe there, and I'll come to visit you every day."_

_ Resigned to the inevitable, she opened her eyes and looked up at her. "Promise?" she asked, tears pleading in her eyes. Serena's heart fell into bits and pieces when she saw that look on her face, that look of absolute despair. She was trying so hard to be brave. The fact that she'd given in so easily to go and stay at the Ostroff Center told a lengthy story of just how far she'd fallen – and all from the threat of a war and the follow through._

_ "Okay," she whispered on a sigh. A silvery tear slipped out of her eye when she closed her eyes again. A higher pitched sniffle slipped out and Serena held her tight against her chests._

_ "Oh B."_

_ "What's wrong with me?" she cried out. Serena cursed that Chuck Basstard in her head, for what he'd done to Blair, to what he'd done to both of them, and for the horrible fact that he might just be suffering by drinking too much alcohol while her best friend was physically, as well as emotionally, deteriorating. She sighed shakily._

_ "Nothing, Blair. Absolutely nothing." She rocked her until her tears ceased and she looked nothing more than a broken angel in her arms._

Serena was gone, had been for about an hour, but she would be back soon. What Blair had been convinced she needed but was currently not in the house Serena had gone out to buy. She'd promised to be back ASAP, but Blair knew despite her good intentions that she would could back with more than the necessities. That was alright though, she told herself. It would make her feel normal, like she was just taking the things back from their shopping spree to their hotel – like they were on a vacation. That's all this was, she told herself. A vacation.

_But who was she kidding?_ This would be hell. Forced diets. Constant watch when she went to the bathroom. Limited activities. Hardly any contact with the outside world. _Rules, rules, rules_. She'd feel like a prisoner all over again. But at least it wouldn't be as bad as it was now. At least she wouldn't have anything to lose. She wouldn't have to listen to Chuck go on and on about how despicable she was and how much he regretted ever having those damn butterflies to begin with, if they had even existed to begin with. She scoffed just thinking about it.

"Going somewhere?"

Her eyes widened and she spun around. There he stood, looking as devilishly handsome as ever in his newly pressed purple suit and decorative tie. They were the last articles of clothing she'd purchased for him before everything had burst into flames. She doubted he remembered though. She doubted he remembered anything. She did though. She remembered everything. Now more than ever. And she cursed herself for putting on the purple skirt and decorative blouse she'd chosen that morning. She always matched him, it seemed. More proof that he was her fate, her horrible, cruel, inescapable fate. She said nothing and continued to pack.

"I never took you for a coward." He smirked. She could feel the heat rising on the back of her neck. She was furious and scared to death at the same time. _She had to get away_. She had to leave _right now_. _Where the hell was Serena?_

He settled beside her, just a mere foot away and analyzed her entire body, not unaware in the slightest that she was shaking. It would have been pure stupidity if he had missed how tense she was or how fast and vicious she was with zipping and packing every little thing into her bags.

"Blair."

She looked up at him, her heart racing, a deadly heat resonating from her eyes. If she wasn't mistaken, he looked a little taken aback.

"Where are you going?" he asked neutrally.

She said nothing, just picked up the two bags that were on her bed and set them down by her doorway. She hoped beyond all hope that the elevator would ding right when she reached the doorway but it didn't happen. That could only mean that God was pissed at her again for no apparent reason. She sighed and went back to her bed, looking about the room as if she were looking for something.

"Blair," Chuck said again, standing to the left of her doorway. She avoided looking at him as long as possible but he was relentless in his newest goal, which unfortunately for her was having a conversation with the only other person in the room – herself. "Where are you going?" he asked, not moving from his spot. Apparently he had come to the conclusion that it wasn't a good idea.

She took a deep breath and finally looked at him. "I'm going away," she said. "To somewhere you can't reach me," she clarified. He studied her as if he was trying to see past transparent skin.

"You know that's impossible, Blair. There's nowhere you could go that I wouldn't follow you to. The fact that you're try—"

"I'm going to the Ostroff Center," she said, ignoring how his face paled and fell right in front of her. She'd heard the ding of the elevator finally, and with Chuck not standing directly in her way and suddenly immovable, she was going to make her exit.

"W-Why?" he managed. She glanced at him before grabbing her two bags and passing through the door. Her face went terribly serious for one aching second.

"Because I'm sick, Chuck," she said softly. She forced herself to perk up just a little more, just to show him she was going to be brave going into this, even if it was only on the outside. "I've relapsed." A shaky sigh escaped her. "A lot."

What seemed forever past by, and Blair Waldorf went with it. Chuck swore his heart stopped beating. In the back of his mind he heard Blair ushering Serena back into the elevator, the blonde's rapid chatter being silenced as Blair whispered something hastily to her. There was even some resistance, he gathered. But then they were gone, and he was alone in the Waldorf Penthouse, in Blair Waldorf's room. He looked down at his body, noticed his fingers slightly shaking. He felt very lightheaded and leaned against the door for support. He braced his hand against the wall, taking deep breaths to steady himself.

She didn't have to spell it out for him. His excuses were nothing now, mere dust specs in the wind. It was right there in front of him. He couldn't push it down anymore, because it was forcing itself in his face, daring him to destroy it. Blair Waldorf had _relapsed_, _more than once_, and it was all _his fault_. _Every single time_ it was his fault. _Everything_ that had happened was his fault. He'd _physically hurt her_. No amount of verbal abuse should have caused that, but it had, and now he couldn't take it back. He couldn't fix it, no matter how hard he tried. Self-loathing, self-gloating, nothing would keep him alive from this waking nightmare.

Eva was nothing. Her words were nothing. He'd heard them before, known them before, memorized them, preached them to himself when no one else was listening, ignored them when he could, which was hardly ever. Her presence had done nothing but remind him of the past that was already plaguing him, and had only intensified from the conversation he'd had with Blair the day before. Eva was a joke. His feelings for her were imaginary, a dream, something concocted by some mad scientist experimenting on him, on the mind and heart of Chuck Bass. He ought to be murdered, that mad scientist. Because everything after Jenny and up until now was a fucking lie.

Blair had relapsed, and it was _his _fault.

_That_ got to him.

…

A/N: Reviews please? *bats eyelashes innocently* Oh, & new poll…still needs to be voted on. XD I'll try my bestest to update soon! =D If I'm very determined, I think I can get this fic finished by Sunday! ;D


	9. Nothing But the In Between

A/N: It's only been like 2 days, right? *holds breath* Hopefully! Please review. ;p

*I own nothing. No copyright infringement intended.

…

**Ch.9—Nothing But the In Between**

_Her flesh pressed tightly against his. His hand rode up her short, tight mini-skirt, sparkling purple in the dark room. Her tongue was twisting with his and her silken hair floated around his face and neck. They were mere inches away from the bed when he heard a gurgling, hacking noise coming from the bathroom. For awhile he ignored it, but it just kept coming and it seemed even the slut attached to his lips and soon enough dick was becoming slightly distracted. He groaned and pushed her off roughly. She fell to the floor. He pulled up his pants, zipped them and strode over to the adjoining bathroom. It was one party of many and Chuck Bass was in the dark bedroom for a reason. It wouldn't be tainted because someone had had too much to drink._

_ As he neared the bathroom, he heard the painful moaning coming from the inside. The catch in his throat had nothing to do with the fact that he'd just tripped over the high heel his latest almost conquest had tossed off her foot on the way into the room. He waved off the girl lying still dazed on the floor._

_ "What?" She lazily moved around, wondering if he wanted her a different position. His head snapped around and he glared at her._

_ "Leave," he snapped. Her eyes widened, even her drunken state, and she fumbled about the room for the clothes she'd disposed of and her high-heeled shoes. Then, she was out and Chuck strode across the room to close and lock the door. He took a deep breath and opened the barely cracked door. He would have known the sound of Blair Waldorf's breathing anywhere. Suddenly her well-being was the most important thing to him. He would ignore that factor for the time being._

_ "Blair?" he asked gently. It seemed to take her forever to finally look at him. He noticed that her finger, covered in puke, was very close to her mouth again. Of course it was very possible that she was just trying to get the puke out of her system before it took her by surprise, but his intuition told him something different, something he didn't even want to think about._

_ She took in rugged appearance, hair tousled all over the place, shirt half-open, shoes off. She shuddered and looked into the toilet bowl to see the puke yet to be flushed away. She sighed shakily, wondering if she could pull off just being too drunk. She was too tired though. She just stared down into the puke, knowing it would make her purge sooner than what was expected. She rose to her knees weakly and leaned over the toilet bowl, starting to heave again._

_ She was barely aware of Chuck coming in and kneeling slightly behind her, holding back her hair. When she was done, he flushed the toilet and she collapsed against him. Slowly, he sat down on the tiled bathroom floor and held her to him. He felt the sweat seeping through her tights-clad legs and noticed how her silvery skirt was riding up her thighs. He tried to pull it down when he saw her shiver, well aware of the fact that she had some sort of form of the chills. _

_ "Chuck, no…" She weakly batted away his hands and he relented. He sighed and backed away to the wall so he wouldn't be on the verge of falling back too quickly. He dragged her with him, and her head rested in the crook of his neck. She looked like she was sleeping, though having a nightmare seemed more like it. Her closed eyes were moving about and her forehead was creased deeply with the addition of her pouting dried ruby lips._

_ He sighed and turned his face into the side of hers. He didn't know what to do. He'd never 'taken care' of anybody before. He had no idea what he was doing, and usually avoided this type of situation at all costs. But for some reason this time had been different. It had been the strangest experience of his life, being instantly turned off by the girl fallen onto the floor and in a desperate need to help Blair on the other side of the door. _

_ "Blair…?"_

_ "No," she murmured. "Don't come in." She sniffled on a gasp. His eyes closed in anguish. She was belatedly telling him not to come in. She was too far gone. He rocked her a little and she reached around to pull his arm across her stomach. She nestled closer into him. He pressed his ear against the wall, hearing that the party was far from over. He sighed. He couldn't take her down there, couldn't let her be seen in this condition. Putting her in the bed that he'd nearly had sex on was out of the question too though. But she was shivering. He had to get her out of this bathroom and get her home. He couldn't lie with her in some other bedroom, even if it was available. She needed a good night's sleep and the horror of being found in the morning with him would not do well for her recently established 'queen bee' reputation._

_ He texted his limo driver to come around the back entrance and managed to find his way to the servants' elevator. He got her out of there and home. Then he called Serena. Normally he didn't call Serena for any other reason than to hit on her – that's all it had been for years, since puberty practically. But this time it was different. The blonde agreed to come and stay with Blair through the night, to talk to her in the morning and see if Chuck's suspicions were remotely true or something just to get her worked up, like she probably thought. He stayed with Blair until Serena came. They didn't say a word, but he called in the morning to see if she was alright. He also didn't spill a word of this to Nathaniel per request of both girls. Blair didn't want to ruin the image of herself as the perfect girlfriend, and under the circumstances, Serena was not one to argue._

Nate dropped an empty scotch glass on the floor and didn't even look as it shattered on the floor. Chuck came awake instantly, shooting up from his laying back position on the bed. Nate looked at him amused. The almost scared expression on Chuck's face vanished the instant he realized what had happened. He'd been dreaming about Blair again, about when he'd helped her through what she was dealing with now, and Nate had come to wake him from that once upon a time.

"You're awake," the blonde said knowingly. Chuck did not roll his eyes or glare, but he pulled the covers back and walked across the room, careful to avoid the shattered glass on the floor.

"I'll have to call room service to get the mess cleaned up," he muttered as he headed towards the kitchen. Nate did not even pretend to be surprised. He just followed him down the hall. H stopped at the end of the long stretch and leaned against the wall, quite amused as he watched Chuck's somewhat composed demeanor dissolve into nothing when he couldn't find any scotch, condoms, or his new little black book for strippers. Now he looked up at Nate and glared.

"You took them," he said, knowingly instantly. Nate shrugged.

"I did what I had to."

Chuck scoffed and found his way over to the large window placed on the far side of the living room. He looked out into the city like it had betrayed him just by existing. Nate saw his fists clench at his sides and was almost afraid that he would attempt to punch the unbreakable glass.

"Chuck."

The brunette loosened his hand's grip on itself slightly. He turned to look at him. "What?" he snapped. Nate walked over to him and sighed, slipping his hands in his pockets.

"You brought this on yourself, you know," he said. Chuck glared.

"So, what? It's _your_ turn to war on _me_? You're taking away everything that makes me numb? You do realize I'm Chuck Bass and I can go and fill up on anything you even attempt to take away from me," he said roughly. Nate's brows furrowed a little.

"No."

Chuck looked at him strangely, not believing, despite his best friend's hardly warring nature.

"I want you to go visit Blair."

He sighed and moved over to the couch, collapsing onto it. He placed a hand on his forehead as if he were suffering from an enormous migraine.

"It's been a _week_, Chuck," Nate said. Chuck sighed loudly again. "You _have_ to see her. You owe her at least that much." Chuck removed his hand and looked at his best friend, sitting up a little in his position on the couch.

"You see that's where you're wrong, Nathaniel." He looked into his best friend's eyes, willing him to understand what he was thinking and feeling. In the back of his mind, he knew very obviously he couldn't comprehend unless he told him directly. It was the last thing he wanted to do, but in order to go back to becoming numb and remembering a time when he was Blair's savior instead of destroyer, he knew he had to.

"I may 'owe her' for everything I've done, but going to visit her will only make things worse." Nate watched him carefully. "I told her I would do anything to make sure she was happy. For almost six months now, I have done nothing but hurt her. I wanted to keep that connection, but…" he sighed, trailing off. "I've only ever made things worse. This is my attempt to make it better."

"Chuck—"

"I mean, it's true she was very persistent to be with me before we first got together. I warned her I couldn't make her happy, but…" He shook his head. "Well, that's not an excuse I can use. I still let her have me, and she will never be to blame for anything that happened after that. It's my fault." He nodded. "All of it." His eyes flickered to Nate. "So _please_, Nate, give me what I need to forget."

He looked so desperate right there, Nate almost gave in. He blinked and shook himself free of the reverie emotional Chuck had on him. He opened his mouth to say something but once again his best friend interrupted him.

"You don't get it, do you?" Tears welled up in his eyes, and Nate tensed. He'd never seen Chuck cry. Ever. He'd never even seen tears in his eyes. He'd always been calm, confident, even when he was angry. "I destroyed the only thing I've ever loved," he said, half-remembering the first time he'd said the words. He shook his head and looked away, focusing his gaze on his intertwined fingers lying in his lap. He leaned forward and braced his arms on his thighs. "It seems every time I tell Blair something horrible I've done to her, she denies it, and then we both pay for it because somewhere in my subconscious I have the need to prove her wrong."

Fists formed from his hands again. Nate wondered briefly if he was going to physically hurt himself. He looked about like he was going to burst.

"Chuck," he managed to squeak out, but his best friend didn't seem to hear him and Nate couldn't make himself do anything more. His eyes widened dramatically when he saw tears finally flowing rapidly down Chuck's his face. Closing his eyes only made them come harder and faster. Finally, Chuck punched his leg. He was so tense he couldn't stand it. He stood to his feet, strode across the room and punched the wall. Nate was shocked by the action, but pulled himself together when he saw that his best friend didn't stop. He wouldn't stop punching. He kept going harder and faster until his knuckles were bleeding and blood was dripping all over his hands.

"Chuck, Chuck…" He pulled him away from the wall and brought him back to the couch, pushing the coffee table away so he wouldn't try to use that as his next target. Reluctantly, Chuck sat back down, but a moment later he proceeded to yank at his hair, trying to pull it out it seemed. Nate jumped over from where he sat on the chair to right beside him on the couch. He held his hands at his sides so he couldn't do anything else. Angry, hurt, desperate, guilty, furious hazel-brown eyes flashed to him.

"Let me go," he whispered roughly. Nate's eyes, just as piercing as his refused to look away.

"_No_," he ground out. Chuck breathed harshly for too long but eventually it settled back to the normal rate. "Fix this," Nate said quietly. "Visit her."

Chuck looked up at him. "That won't fix anyth—"

"It's a start," Nate said fiercely. Chuck blinked and looked away.

"I can't face her," he said softly. "I _can't_." Chuck's watery gaze turned away from the blonde, and he pulled free of Nate's loosened grip and trudged back down the hall, making a point of walking through the shattered glass.

…

Later that afternoon, Nate made it to the Ostroff Center. Serena was sitting next to Blair in the same chair he'd seen her in the last time he'd come. She must have felt a shift in the vicinity, because she let go of Blair's hand she'd been holding and got to her feet, walking over to where he stood in the vicinity.

"Hey," she said softly.

"Hey," he returned, his voice so very solemn under the circumstances.

"How's she doing?" he asked, gesturing to Blair's sleeping form on the bed.

"She's good," Serena said, nodding to encourage him. She smiled a little, holding back the sadness on her face that was so very hard to hide. "Sleeping," she said. He nodded, his eyes flickering over to her. She was breathing evenly and she looked peaceful. "Which is good," she continued on. Nate looked back at Serena.

"You doing okay too?" he asked, concern filling his entire face. He crossed his arms across his chest and looked at her intently. Serena blinked, taken off guard. They'd hardly been on good terms with each other since she'd come back. It was true that when something was wrong with the four of them it tended to calm down tempers, but still, she hadn't expected the question.

"I'm fine," she said shrugging. She could see that he didn't believe her. "If Blair's okay, I'm okay," she said. He seemed to accept that.

"Well, Chuck won't be coming." He sighed, resigned. Serena's head reared back a little.

"Well, that's good," she said, sounding very surprised by his disappointment. "After what he's done, I don't him anywhere near her."

Nate shook his head, a tight smile forcing its way through. "He's not who he was before," he said. Serena scoffed.

"Well that's for damn sure." Her voice started to rise. "He's heartless, totally out of control, practically the devil himself, and not in the way we used to refer to him before. He's so much, so much worse." She was practically shrieking. Nate pulled her into the hall when he saw Blair move a little in her bed. He certainly didn't want to wake her, most especially not because her best friend was raving on about how much she hated Chuck.

"_Serena_." He gripped her upper arms and pressed her against the wall directly behind her. His blue eyes were wild seas of persistence. One look and she knew she had gone too far. She sighed and nodded, her head dropping down and her eyes closing out of the floor's view.

"Too much. I know."

He released her. She took a deep breath and looked back up at him. He was still watching her intently, but concern had replaced the fierceness in his eyes. He tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear. She seemed to shiver under his touch. He knew that if he tried to convince her again that Chuck had officially backed off and was in fact physically hurting himself she would never buy it. She wouldn't buy into any of it, not after all he'd done. It was true he'd done some pretty awful things before and they'd all forgiven him in the end, but this had crossed a serious line. This was the uncrossable line, despite the fact that they'd said the same thing about all the previous lines he'd crossed.

"But he really…" he tried again. When Serena focused more intently on him though, he knew he couldn't do it, not yet at least. It was too soon. She'd gone through too much just trying to save Blair, trying to keep her from giving up on it all. She begged him not to say anything more, not to try to win her over to team Chuck, even just a little. She begged him with her eyes. So, he just sighed and wrapped his arms around her. She relaxed against him, treasuring in how safe she'd always felt in his arms. She hadn't been able to break down with anybody, didn't trust Dan with this kind of problem and had been trying to constantly be so brave for Blair. This, _right now_, Nate holding her, was _exactly_ what she needed.

"Why'd this have to happen to her?" she asked on a sharp cry. Nate's eyes closed in anguish and he wrapped his hand around the back of her head. "Why did he have to go so far?"

"I don't know," he whispered softly, because he honestly didn't. He didn't understand why Chuck and Blair hurt each other so much, even when the other wasn't willing to participate. His insides were screaming at him to just tell Serena that Chuck had finally ended his pursuit of torturing Blair. Despite her cries, he should tell her. Chuck sure as hell didn't deserve anyone's forgiveness at this point, but Blair had never given up on him, no matter what. Even when she said she was done with him, she wasn't. She still cared, even if it was only a little, she still cared. Nate found that mentality coming to him easily now. Seeing Chuck torment himself day in, day out made it all the more easier. He'd had no idea his best friend would actually physically hurt himself when his numbing 'medications' were taken away. He'd never seen him like that. _Never_. For a few torturous moments he wondered if at this time in his life he'd want to go back to Prague and get shot all over again, and make _sure_ he got killed. A shudder ran through him, despite all the circumstances.

"Nate," Serena said suddenly. He was jerked from his thoughts, pulling his head back to look at her. He waited for what would come next. "I-I…I'm going to get some coffee," she said, putting on a tiny smile, one she was sure would make her look brave. He relaxed and mourned for her in that single gaze. "And more water for Blair," she said nodding. She looked like she was trying to laugh light-heartedly at the addition to the statement, but Nate knew she couldn't. He let her slip away and walk down the hallway.

When she turned the corner, he turned to look back into the room. He sighed and walked inside, almost feeling like he was entering forbidden territory. He felt like he was in a hospital and Blair was dying. It almost seemed like he just couldn't see the wires and tubes running through her, like nurses rushing through the halls and the computer monitors were just out of his vision. His inability to hear must've tainted too. That's what it felt like walking into that room and sitting down on the chair opposite Serena's on the other side of the bed. He leaned his arms on his thighs and looked intently over Blair's form but particularly on her sleeping face that seemed completely at peace. He wondered if it ever looked that way when she was awake anymore.

"You're always taking care of us…" he trailed off, talking quietly to her. "Why can't we take care of you?"

…...

He'd left a note with Nate, saying he'd be out "getting numb" since he apparently wasn't allowed to do that in his own hotel. He wasn't normally someone who left notes, but he didn't want his best friend to go around calling all the local bars and have him brought home – not that he was the type of person to do that anyways, but it was a precaution he felt he had to take. He also left his phone back in his room too – another precaution. No one would be able to get a hold of him. He didn't want to be found. He was going somewhere where no one could interrupt him. He just hoped Serena wasn't still there. He knew how insistent she was on staying by Blair's side constantly. It was after midnight though. He hoped she wasn't still there that long. People hardly slept over at the Ostroff Center, at least not several days in a row.

He hadn't planned on going to see Blair. In fact, he'd been pretty clear to Nate that that was the last thing he planned to do. He'd meant every word he said to him earlier. There wasn't nearly enough blood spewing out from his knuckles when he'd punched the wall earlier. He'd waited until Nate left to bloody up three of the four walls in his room. Then he'd bandaged his hands, Blair's words ringing through him like an extremely loud resounding bell.

_"…if you were really hurt, I would want to know."_

So _obviously_ he had to tell her he'd beat the hell out of his hands that afternoon and evening. It was a lame excuse to get out of the house and go to her, but it was the only one his mind allowed him to accept. Everything else just didn't make sense. It couldn't make it to the category of reasons for justification. But he knew as he approached the dimly lit lights on the outside of the building that there was no way in hell he was going to tell her he was torturing himself because of her. That would make her feel guilty, or maybe she'd taunt him, saying he deserved it. Maybe she wouldn't say anything and just refuse to look at him. Maybe she absolutely wouldn't care. A lot had happened since they'd met on that train station in Paris. _Too much_. She'd stopped loving him after all, after she'd believed that so fiercely with all her heart. She'd changed her mind. He had done something for him to break her devotion, even though she'd been so insistent that there was nothing he could do to keep her from loving him. Maybe he'd just imagined those words, he thought. Maybe he'd just assumed that from all her 'I love you's and precious, passionate emotions. After all, she hadn't anticipated him almost trading her in for a hotel or sleeping with her most cursed almost once upon a time possible friend, now ever constant nemesis.

Guilt was the only emotion he knew anymore. From the moment she'd left him standing in her room as she moved _here_, until now – when she was still there and he was still the cause and he still had no idea what to do, no strength to even attempt anything either.

His breath caught in his throat as he approached her room. The halls were silent, barely lit. The receptionist who should have been at the desk had briefly vacated it, courtesy of him having water almost constantly at her side today. Having connections in high places meant power even in deserts like this. It was also what got him in without security check or entrance to other floors.

The door was open. He was frozen there in the middle of the hall just watching her sleep in the dark room. He swallowed hard and summoned the strength to keep walking. It felt like he was breaking some thick barrier when he finally made it into her room. His first instinct was to close the door behind him so they could have some privacy, but then he again, _what did they need privacy for? _He wasn't supposed to be there. He was sure Serena was the last person who'd want him there, next to Blair of course. It occurred to him now as very odd that Nate would be persistent. He decided not to think about it for the time being.

She was getting closer. Either that or he was still walking. He couldn't feel his legs anymore, obviously his numbness had kicked in. He was shaking a little when he finally stood right beside her lying in the bed. The chair was so close. The backs of his knees nearly touching it, but he just couldn't let him give in to the temptation of sitting down. That would mean he wouldn't be able to leave. He'd stay in that chair and watch her sleep all night, just like he used to. He'd made it all the way here, to the Ostroff Center, but he hadn't planned on staying long. He just wanted to see her, wanted to be near to her, wanted to make sure she was still okay. He hadn't lied when he told Nate that he didn't have it in him to face her, that he was too broken to summon the courage. He'd come this late on purpose. With no parties or boyfriends or gossip, he knew Blair Waldorf had to be asleep. His insistence on not coming and his particularly impressive talent of tapping into the security would make no one suspicious of him. Nobody would know that he'd been there.

He sighed and reached out hesitantly, brushing his fingertips on her hand and then brushing over her long neck and the side of her face. _She was so beautiful_. He'd never forgotten that. Not for one moment had he forgotten the silken brunette goddess she was, soft and fierce and intoxicating. He was scared that he wouldn't see that if she opened her eyes. He was scared of seeing wariness and the need to destroy herself if he saw those dark brown orbs. Now when she slept everything was fine in her world. He wondered if she slept a lot.

"I'm sorry," he breathed, brushing his hand over her satin skin and luscious locks before bringing it back to his side. He was shaky and consumed with guilt and he needed to leave. He knew he had to. He couldn't get lost in her, not here, not anymore. She was better without him, and the only way to fix her was to _stay away_.

"I never meant to do this to you." He sighed. "I just wanted…" he trailed off, shaking his head. "I just wanted you to love me again. I needed to keep that connection, I…" He found himself starting to sit down, starting to confess everything that had gone wrong and how little logic had actually been put into his scheme to 'destroy her/get her back'.

He caught himself as he bent down. He would _not_ sit down. He _wouldn't_. Ultimately though, it was not his insistence on the matter that made him straighten and leave. It was the fact that Blair moved a little and moaned in her sleep. A breath caught in his throat, but he quickly swallowed it, quietly straightened and walked out of the room. The receptionist was still not there when he left, and when he was gone Blair Waldorf opened her eyes.

…

A/N: Wow. That was long. *blank stare* (lol) Please review! =D And…vote on my newest poll. ;p Thanks much! ;D


	10. A Little Hate, A Little Love

A/N: Well, I am extremely depressed – and no, this should not be incentive for you to stop reviewing XD – and so I am writing. Heh. *sigh* It just majorly sucks that my fic _Flashback_ is basically utter fail in the mind of all my reviewers. =( Anyways, I am so very grateful for the positive feedback for _this_ fic. I hope it won't die when it's finished. ;p Enjoy.

*I own nothing. No copyright infringement intended.

….

**Ch.10—A Little Hate, A Little Love**

"I'm telling you, he was _here_."

Serena looked at her a bit suspiciously. "He wasn't, B."

"He _was_," she insisted. The blonde sighed and sat down in the chair across from her.

"He _wasn't_," she retorted. Blair looked about to speak again before she continued. "I made sure he couldn't get in. I took all the precautions." Blair frowned.

"What do you mean?" It wasn't as if Chuck being there was the number one thing on her list. In fact, for all intents and purposes, the last thing she should have wanted was him to be anywhere near her. The shaky fear she'd experienced when she was last around him was hard to forget.

"Well," Serena crossed one leg over the other. "For starters, I gave all the management his physical description, his name, all the names he's gone under in the past, and his general mannerisms. Not to mention he's not family, so he could hardly get past security." She smiled a little, proud of her accomplishments, but when she looked back at her best friend, she did not feel so encouraged. The blank stare that greeted her was anything but reassuring.

"That's it?" she asked.

Serena squirmed uneasily. "I thought that was pretty good," she said, sounding less than convinced. Blair shook her head. "What?" Serena asked. Blair scoffed and looked up at her.

"He's _Chuck Bass_," she said, as if that explained everything, and in reality, it did. He could get past any barrier, achieve any goal he set his mind to, sometimes he went overboard – her situation case in point – but it only proved all the more that Serena's attempts to keep him away were weak at best.

She blinked. "So…" she began, starting to feel her way through the new information. "you're saying…"

"—that he was here last night," she finished. Serena's gaze flashed to hers.

"He _wasn't_," she said again. "Nate verified with me that he hasn't left his room all week."

Blair studied her for a long time, not saying anything. For some reason the idea of Chuck cooped up in his suite all week had a certain pleasing ring to it. He hadn't gone out, hadn't done anything. Of course, it was entirely possible that he just hadn't done anything because it was impossible to torture her now that she was placed elsewhere. Still, it gave her a bubble of happiness. Maybe it would be in her best interest to pretend she believed Serena's words, but the peonies sitting in the corner didn't fool her for a second.

"Nate was here?" she asked instead. Serena nodded.

"Yep. He came while you were asleep," she said. Blair frowned.

"You should've woken me up," she said, disappointed. A small ridiculous smile slipped through Serena's lazy pink lips.

"you were out like a light, B," she said. She put a hand up to her brunette locks to push out of her face. Blair pushed away her hand, a trifle irritated at the moment. Serena frowned. "He's been coming every couple days," she said. "He'll come again." Blair sighed. "I can call him and have him come again tonight," she said quickly. Blair waved her off.

"No, no, that's fine. I'll be alright." Serena looked at her, unsure. "Really," Blair said, pressing her hand down on Serena's arm. "I mean, you're right. He'll come around in a day or so." She smiled a little and that seemed to encourage the blonde, despite the fact of the upward curve in Blair's lips being totally fake. Serena sat back in her chair and seemed to relax.

Silence ensued. Blair couldn't stop looking at the peonies on the corner table of the room. Her eyes were drawn to them like a moth to the flame. They were so beautiful, so preciously light pink and she desperately wanted to smell them. Climbing out of bed to retrieve them or demanding they be delivered to her was probably a little too desperate on her part, but the only other way she could get them without suspicion was by winning Serena over to the fact that Chuck had been there the night before and maybe the blonde even knew about it. Blair was very prepared to lecture her for that secret.

"Who are the flowers from?" she asked innocently. Serena's face flushed.

"Wh-What flowers?" she asked, confused. Blair shook her head at her best friend in her head. _The girl could not act for the life of her. _Blair cleared her throat and glanced in the direction of the corner. Knowing what was to come – as both of them did – Serena turned and looked at the beautiful bouquet sitting on the table in the corner. Before she could say anything, Blair interrupted her.

"Why don't you go over there and check the card," she whispered, touching her best friend's arm endearingly. Serena slowly turned back to her best friend who was pulling off the innocent look far too perfectly. She laughed a little nervously, but it was clear the brunette was not going to let her back out of this one.

Some time during the few minutes it took her best friend to make it to the other side of the room and fumble around in the leaves for the card, Blair started to panic. She'd known the flowers were from Chuck, known from the start. And despite the fact that she hadn't seen him at all during the night, even when she thought maybe he'd been there when she woke up in the middle of the night, she just knew they were from him. It was some sort of deep intuition, but more accurately was probably the fact that Chuck Bass always came bearing the peonies for his apologies. They were the sign that he was trying to win her over. Never fail – if he'd done wrong, he'd come bearing peonies.

"What does it say?" she asked delicately. Serena cleared her throat.

"It's an apology," she managed, hoping her blush wasn't getting too deep.

"And who's it from?" Blair demanded. She was sick of Serena beating around the bush. The blonde slowly turned to her, looking the saddest she'd ever seen her. For a second she thought the flowers actually weren't from Chuck. She wanted him to fight for her! It didn't matter that she was scared to death of what he would do or that she…well, that she didn't want to love him. She wanted him to fight for her, and peonies was the first sign that he had begun to do just that. She didn't think she could handle the fact that they weren't from him, that she might forever be waiting for him to bust out of his prison of self-torment long enough to approach her. She was so sure he'd done so the night before.

"They're from Chuck, B," she said very softly.

Blair swallowed hard. Panic mode crept up on her again and she covered her face with her hands, starting to cry uncontrollably. Her mind was warring with her heart and both were fighting with themselves because so many different things were felt and torn apart all at once. Serena went to her and held her fiercely.

"I'll get rid of them. I promise I will," she declared. Blair reeled back and held tightly to the blonde's upper arms.

"_No_," she said fiercely, pinning her dark brown eyes like fire to her best friend's blue ones. "Don't get rid of them," she whispered harshly. "_Please_."

…

She took a deep breath – in and out, in and out – just like she'd been doing steadily for the last hour. The peonies in the corner of the room were taunting her, telling her all sorts of things she didn't want to hear. She didn't want to feel that she loved Chuck, regardless of the horribly awful pain he'd put her through. He didn't want to think that was possible. Putting her into the emotional hell she'd had to deal with all summer and then having to see him come back with a French floozy on his arm, acting more in love than he'd ever acted with her. She didn't think she could hurt that much – _ever_. She'd known both of them were bound to move on eventually, but _why did it have to be him first?_ Wasn't _she_ allowed to be happy with someone who could appreciate her? Someone who wouldn't sell her for a hotel, sleep with her nemesis and then act like what they'd had had never meant anything to him? What _kind of right did he have to do that to her?_ And what – now he thought he could just buy her forgiveness with one bouquet of flowers? What _right_ – what _dignity_ did he hold to do that to her?

It wasn't _right_. It wasn't _dignified_. And she _hated_ that she loved that he was trying.

"No, Mom," she said into the phone. "I'll be alright. Serena's here with me." She looked up at the blonde standing by the doorway. She was trying to give her space while eavesdropping at the same time – _way to not be obvious, S_.

"It is not alright," Eleanor said roughly on her end. "You haven't relapsed this bad since your sophomore year of high school. You can't expect me and your father, and Cyrus and Roman too, to just sit here and wait for your doctor to call and confirm that you're alright."

Blair gave a little sigh that was just small enough to keep from entering the receiver. When her mother was determined she was almost impossible to get through to. Stubbornness was a Waldorf trait. She listened to her mother rant on for another forty-five seconds before interrupting her again.

"I'm at the Ostroff Center, Mom—"

She was cut off again. "Another reason why we should come back," she said fiercely. "You're in a foreign rehabilitation center with no one to comfort you and reassure you everything will be okay," she sighed sadly. Blair scoffed.

"Eric was here, Mom," she said indignantly. Serena tilted her head at the sound of her brother's name but Blair paid no attention to it. "No, not right now—" She sighed. "My point is, it's not a foreign place where I'll be treated improperly. Upper East Siders have been treated here before, and well." Serena smiled faintly. "As for company, Serena comes every day and Nate has been coming pretty often as well."

Blair froze at her mother's next question. Her face paled, her hand nearly dropped the phone and she suddenly found it very hard to breathe. Serena turned to her worriedly, very well aware of what Eleanor had just asked her daughter. The Waldorf/Cyrus parents were hardly aware of Blair's last debacle with her ex-boyfriend, Chuck.

"Chuck's been…busy," she said softly, trying to pull off the answer as slight annoyance rather than sadness and the fear of saying his name, of bringing up anything about him to anyone that did not know about the situation – namely anyone besides Serena, Nate and Dorota.

"That is no excuse to not visit my daughter in the hospital—"

"It's not a hospital, Mom." She twitched, annoyed. Serena moved across the room towards her, deciding to act quickly. Her best friend needed a break.

"I don't care if the two of you did break up! Nate and you broke up too and he's visiting you," she huffed. But before Blair could get in another word Serena had stolen the phone away and was walking out into the hall, closing the door behind her. The brunette looked at her best friend gratefully as she left the room. Serena smiled meekly as she caught the glance, right before the door shut.

Blair sighed and covered her eyes with her hands. Her mother was unbearable sometimes, but she knew it was just maternal worry. She couldn't blame her. If it was her, she wouldn't have even discussed the issue with the daughter in question. She would have just flown back and rushed to her without a moment's hesitation. What really shook her up now though was having Chuck's name spoken out loud by her mother. It sent shivers running through her that others who were so close to her could speak his name as if it were anyone else's on the planet. She hated how her mind worked right now. She hated that it continued to war with her heart. She just wanted to forget everything, forget Chuck, forget that she was at the Ostroff Center. She just wanted to start over. She would get over her relapse and then she would start over. No Chuck. No Columbia. Maybe not even New York. She needed a fresh start, one that didn't involve the Basstard following her around. It would have all been so much easier – as he had said – if he hadn't come back about a month earlier. But she'd been determined to have him still in her life. She'd felt desperate, lonely, afraid of her life without him. It was so terrifying that she knew with every fiber of her being that if she had the chance to do it all over that nothing would have been done differently.

She heard the door open and belatedly opened her eyes. A young man in scrubs approached her with various envelopes. Her brows furrowed and she looked up at him, but before she could ask her question, he spoke.

"Your mail, Miss Waldorf."

She took it, confused. "Thank-you," she said, looking marveled at the fact that someone had actually delivered her mail from her home. She supposed it wasn't completely unusual, but she still found it so. _What was so important that she needed to see now anyways?_ All she could think of was an official condemnation letter from Columbia. She felt incredibly sick to her stomach and empty at the thought.

The man was gone and had closed the door behind him once again by the time she jolted herself out of the brief trance she'd fallen into and decided to pick through her mail. There was nothing too exciting, some advertising, some bills she was sure she wanted nothing to do with and should have been sent to her mother or some bank that dealt with their tedious financial dealings.

Then, there it was, just as she feared. The letter from Columbia. She swallowed slowly and carefully opened the envelope, somehow managing to avoid giving herself a paper cut. She nearly dropped the letter after she'd unfolded and read it. Her eyes blurred for a few breathless moments. She couldn't believe it. Was it real? Was she dreaming? Was this another hallucination or a sick joke from Chuck? Doing her in all over again? She couldn't tell from the information she held in her hands, but the few lines smack in the middle of the letter rung through her like a golden bell come straight from the church of Heaven.

_ On behalf of the entire admissions' department at Columbia University, we regretfully announce that we had been given false information and serious miscommunication took place regarding your status as a student, both prior to attending Columbia and presently at the school. It would be our great honor to readmit you to the school and whichever classes you wish to attend as soon as you are able. We are very sorry for the inconvenience and extreme disrespect, Miss Waldorf, and hope to see you soon. If there is anything else we can do to accommodate you for this horrible mistake, please request it to the admissions staff at Columbia University whenever you see fit and the president himself will see that it is followed through._

_ Our deepest regrets…_

"What is it?" Serena asked, finally coming back into the room. Blair was gaping, still in shock. All she could do was hold up the letter and point to its glorious, very forgivable words. _The Basstard had fought for her again. _

Serena walked closer to her, squinting to see the words. Blair handed over the letter to her with ease. A sob escaped her and Serena's eyes darted over to hers, looking as equally surprised as the brunette had looked moments earlier.

"I'm back in," she gasped, her eyes glittering with happy tears. Serena enveloped her in an excited hug and bounced a little with her on the bed. The room was filled with laughter.

….

By late afternoon, Serena had left, leaving Blair with just enough energy to sit still on the bed without bursting to giggles and tears. For a good twenty minutes she'd even harped at the receptionist about the need to go out for a walk around the block. It was semi-successful, allowing only ten minutes for her to stretch her legs, but she was so cheerful she hardly cared. She was back in Columbia, and she was certain Chuck had everything to do with it. Even if he hadn't she would blame him for her happy mood. The other option was that his plan had backfired. She couldn't decide which possibility she liked more.

Later on, after her walk, she settled into the chair sitting directly in front of the flowers and smelled them for at least ten minutes, while reading a magazine that she was sure she'd flipped through a million times – one clearly Dorota hadn't thought twice about. It simply wasn't annoying her at the moment. She couldn't help herself. She was almost as cheerful as she'd been when she'd first found out about being accepted into Columbia. At the time, she and Chuck had been broken up. She'd helped him and then he'd helped her. He was definitely overdue for helping her, for fixing the mistakes he'd made, and she'd been pretty set in her mind to never ever forgive him, but it didn't hurt that he was trying to make her life wonderful again. In fact, it felt pretty fantastic. She could almost forget that he was the reason she was in the Ostroff Center to begin with.

The only thing dimming her mood was the fact that Nate hadn't been answering his phone all day. It wasn't that she was dying to see him or anything. It was the fact that she knew without a doubt he was the only one that could get a hold of Chuck and wouldn't freak out on her. He would understand, especially since she'd heard during the few hushed conversations he'd had with Serena, the ones she'd eavesdropped while pretending to be asleep on, that he was pressing Chuck to come and visit her. That made her heart leap that he was trying so hard. He was clearly the only person she could trust to get Chuck there with her. Of course, acting like Serena was the more proper way she should be acting. Chuck had torn her apart – mentally, physically and emotionally. She shouldn't have thought twice about whether to forgive him or not, and she still was extremely pissed and hurt at him. She still wouldn't forgive him, and nothing in her was fighting that. But when he'd gotten her accepted to Columbia the first time, she'd still thanked him countless times, her bitchiest mode in full throttle naturally. She wouldn't be Blair Waldorf if she didn't believe with all her being that he was in the wrong even with the little things he did that were so refreshingly right.

Nate's answering machine message came on again and she groaned, setting the phone back down in her lap. She was back in her bed, one leg crossed over the other under the covers. The renewed disappointment from not getting a hold of Nate vanished – as it always did – when she looked across the room at the beautiful pink peonies and glance at the little table beside her bed where that beautiful Columbian letter sat. A small smile tugged at her lips.

_She was so confused._

She groaned, covering her face with her hands. It all seemed so wrong for her to be feeling like this. To be feeling terrified, pissed, ecstatic, bubbly, irritated, shocked, in love…she shook her head, willing herself to feel negative towards him. If she pushed all her emotions into the constant mode of hatred and hurt then she could stop calling Nate, she could stop needing Chuck to visit her so they could discuss her _blessings _throughout the day. She could stop all of it, because really, aside from visiting her and making a fool of himself by going on repeat apologies, what else could he do? He could take back the horrid things he'd said to her, but they had been so fierce when he said them she didn't think she could ever forget how empty she'd felt, how much she couldn't prevent herself from going to the bathroom and putting her finger to the back of her throat, purging out everything she'd eaten just so she could attempt to forget.

But she hadn't so much as wanted to throw up all day, and without thinking she'd picked up the phone, dialed Nate's number and waited for him to answer.

"Blair."

She looked up into the doorway and dropped the phone which now had Nate's tiny voice emanating from it. She swallowed hard and closed the phone, somehow needing to hear herself breathe, hear her heart beat because she wasn't sure if it was still thumping inside her chest. Whether she'd really wanted it or not, whether she knew if she really wanted (or needed) it or not, Chuck Bass was standing in her doorway and there was no one to keep him from coming inside. She pushed her phone off her lap and onto the floor. Neither looked at it when they heard the soft bing.

He walked in through the door, closed it behind him and walked slowly towards her. Neither could tear their gaze away. It seemed he was having as hard of a time breathing as she was. He swallowed hard and stopped just short of where her arm lie at her side.

"Hi," he said on one short breath.

"Hi," she whispered, barely managing this single word. He took one more shaky step forward and his face literally fell apart. She could feel nothing whatsoever. She was completely numb and all she could hear was her heart beating.

"I'm sorry," he said. She swallowed hard and watched him stiffly. Tears welled up in her eyes.

….

A/N: *sigh* I can already tell you guys are going to find this confusing…but in my defense, Blair is really confused in this chapter too, so I think it's allowed. You're just _feeling_ _her emotions_. Heh. *prepares self for negative reviews* I'm really going to try to get this story finished before the next episode, _really_. Because if I feel like Chuck is heartless again in 4x06, then I won't be able to finish this fic right away b/c he is clearly no longer heartless in this story. =(

Review! =D


	11. Emotional Let Down

A/N: Wow. I can't believe I'm doing this. It just took forever for me to write my last chapter on a different story and now I'm attempting this one? *sighs & shakes head* Btw, if you read my last chapter's author's note, please dismiss the Flashback fic comment entirely. I have had so much hatemail for that & I don't need anymore – truly. So, unless you're willing to be extremely openminded, patient, and don't mind if the story is written in 1st person with an OC as the main character, I suggest you avoid it. ;p Back to this fic though, yes, this is the last chapter – but there will be an epilogue after it, so stay tuned for that! =D It will be kind of open-ended, since obviously I can't fix everything between Chuck & Blair without having some serious time lapses, but yes, I hope you still enjoy it & review. The response I've gotten to this fic has been incredible. I didn't even think it was possible for peeps to enjoy my fics this much. Hehe. *hugs*

Read on!

*I own nothing. No copyright infringement intended.

…

**Ch.11—Emotional Let Down**

_Was he breathing?_ She couldn't tell. He'd been so impeccably still for at least two minutes. Maybe it was their inability to break eye contact with one another that drove her to such a question, but multi-tasking was not something she could accomplish at the moment. All she could hear was her heart beating. She hoped he was keeping track of her breathing because she surely wasn't.

"Uhh…"

He cleared his throat. "Right." Very slowly he moved in front of the chair sitting beside her bed and sat down in it. She watched him as if she were afraid he'd touch her. She tensed, and only barely relaxed when he had leaned back into the cushions. She watched him very closely, trying to calculate his moves. It was strange having him so close, but she couldn't look at the experience as some sort of experiment she was looking forward to. She was scared to death. He still had so much power over her.

"So…"

"The flowers," she said, clearing her throat, avoiding his gaze. "I assume they're from you."

"Ye—"

"And the letter?" she asked, reaching across the small table to grab it and hold it folded in her lap. Finally she looked up at him questioningly. He nodded.

"There was some miscommunication," he said. She closed her eyes and then looked down at the letter. _Miscommunication, my ass_, she thought. _You took it away and now you're giving it back. Don't beat around the bush, Basshole_. "It has been cleared up."

She straightened herself on the bed. "By the same person who caused this miscommunication to begin with no doubt," she quipped. He shifted uncomfortably. She stared at him hard, willing him to feel as uncomfortable as he could in the given situation. This was all his fault and she would not let him get off with any ease at all, regardless if he'd attempted to undo some of the torturous things he had done. Stealing Columbia was the least of it – the largest part of 'the least of it', to be sure, but her heart was still the greater element at risk.

"H-How are you doing?" he asked, barely able to look up at her. _Good_, she thought. He _deserves_ to feel bad about this. He _put me_ here.

"Today?" she asked innocently. He looked at her, his insides gripped with guilt. She shrugged. "Not bad," she said, plastered fake smile on her face. Of course, in truth today had been going extremely well compared to all the days before that, but she wasn't about to let him know to what degree the day had gone. He had done too much to deserve any knowledge that wouldn't come easily to her lips.

"But overall?" he asked tentatively. She sighed a little and looked at him, willing the tears to stay inside her eyes at his words. She'd give anything for dry eyes now. _Damn tears made her eyes constantly moisturized. _

"Overall, I'm fine," she said coolly, though there was some depth to her words that held a million little secrets, he thought. He took a deep breath and decided to get down to business. He wouldn't sit here acting like everything was fine between them when not a single thing was. He'd completely destroyed her and he knew some flowers and re-admittance to Columbia wouldn't be enough in a million years.

_It was time to grovel._

He leaned forward on his thighs, placing his forearms there for support and looked intensely into her deep brown eyes. If things were different, if the circumstances weren't so harsh, he would stare into those perfect orbs forever just to – in the end – tell her how beautiful they were. She was such a sleek creature of the night. He was always awed by her very presence. He knew though, with much sadness, that he wouldn't be able to indulge in those types of words, that type of situation, for a long time yet.

"Blair, I'm _really_ sorry," he said softly, almost on a whisper. Once again neither could tear their gazes away if they tried. Blair swallowed hard, willing herself not to speak. "I never meant for this to happen." He shook his head in disbelief and shame. "For it to go so far."

Feeling a bit more in control of herself from what he said, Blair pulled herself together and managed to narrow her eyebrows as he proceeded to fall apart. "As I recall, Chuck, when you declared war on me, you made it very clear that there would be no limits."

His face fell.

"Now correct me if I'm wrong, but restraining yourself to a place where I wouldn't get physically ill is a limit, isn't it?" She tilted her head to the side, mocking him. He had to voluntarily remind himself to breathe.

"The war was a _mistake_," he said clearly, firmly. She nearly laughed at his words, a scoff coming out on a breathy gasp.

"You say that _now_," she said, nodding. "Now when you can't possibly hurt me anymore, because there is nowhere else for me to go but up and you taint even _that_ by pretending you're concerned and fucking _visiting_ me in this poor excuse for a mental institute."

He looked very alarmed, very taken aback by everything she was saying, by how her temper was rising. He'd known it would be difficult – coming to see her, but he'd hoped she'd see reason. Or at least that she'd let him explain before going off at him. He deserved this, he reminded himself. And he did. But it hurt to hear her ridicule him. He wondered if it hurt this much when he'd done the same to her. He didn't move, and she stared him down, wondering if she could make him disappear just by looking at him with cruel intent in her eyes.

"I wanted to harm you, yes," he said. Amusement lit her eyes. "I was furious that you got Eva to leave, because I was _so_ happy with her." Her fingers pierced the sheets that wrapped tightly around her hands. They dug into the bed, just trying to release some of the pressure that she was feeling building up in her lungs. The need to scream was almost overpowering. "But," he continued, "only as it'd been before." She blinked.

"Emotionally, mentally, social destruction and some hurt feelings – not," he sighed, gesturing to her. "Not this." He shook his head hopelessly. "I never wanted this." He swallowed hard. Then, again, he wanted desperately to tell her that he loved her, but he knew she wouldn't believe it, so he just studied his numbing hands resting in the air above his knees instead.

Blair sat up, pulled the covers off of her and scooted to the edge of the bed. Chuck looked up at her, searching her eyes for some sort of reassurance and finding none. He should have known all that had been between them was truly gone. He should have known any and all 'loving' feelings she had for him were just left for the man he once was, the man she'd known when they'd been together, before he'd turned into a monster.

"I've got news for you, Chuck. Emotional, mental and social destruction?" She looked down at herself, remembering very vividly how many times she'd seen her image and despised it, and hastily rushed to the bathroom to drown herself in the tempting image of the alluring porcelain goddess. She sucked in a breath and looked back up at him. "This is what happens when you push too far."

He swallowed hard, but reached for her hands anyways, taking a huge leap of faith. Her hands shook in his hold. He felt like he was breaking her but it only made him hold her tighter. Tears squeezed out of the corners of his eyes, just as the salty moisture leaked all over her face.

"_Please_, Blair," he begged. "Please forgive me for this," he said desperately. "I will do anything for you, I swear it. Just ask me, _demand_ it of me, slice me in half to find the power to make all your wishes come true. I'll leave and never come back, if that's what you want or need. I'll—"

She shook her head rapidly, and eventually the action ceased his pleas. She gasped on a sniffle, closed her eyes and felt more tears rushing down her face. When she opened her eyes, she could barely see for a moment because her vision was so blurred over with tears.

"I can _never_ forgive you for this, Chuck."

….

Six empty plastic cups. Two half-filled water bottles. A couple bits of one plateful of crackers. Three hours later and that's what they'd been resolved to. No one else had come and Blair hadn't made him leave. She'd made the mistake of cupping his face in her hand when she'd finally told him she wouldn't forgive him for what he'd done, _ever_. Despite her tough resolve and her anger at him for what he'd done, her heart still softened a little at the sight of his tortured face, and when his head fell into her hand and she _felt_ the tears stuck to his cheeks, her whole world was crushed because he'd hurt her _so much_, but she'd caused _this_ on _him_. And _that_ hurt her even more.

"Do you remember…when we were kids?" he asked. She could not tell if he was drunk on the fact that she hadn't made him leave or if was seriously wanting to discuss their childhood.

"Vividly," she said, mostly to amuse him.

"Remember that one time we stole Serena's pretty while flower dress and put it in Nate's dirty laundry pile?" He was too enthused about the memory and it made her slowly smile a little.

"Mmm," she said, nodding along. "She was furious with him for two whole days, because it was her favorite dress and she was convinced he'd taken it to annoy her."

"Well, in her defense, we did spill red paint all over it and Nate did plenty of finger painting in those days – red was his favorite color," he informed her. She still smiled.

"I remember."

"I don't know why you agreed to partner up with me and do it though. I mean, she was your best friend," he said, sounding very confused. She shook her head at him, deciding to delight in the hundredth memory he'd recalled to her. It was a breath of fresh air from the four months of anguish. She needed this, and from the way he was acting, she guessed he did too. Plus, it wasn't like he was reminding her of any part of their romantic relationship, so, by all accounts, it was a safe route to go.

"As I recall," she began, "It had just come to my attention that Nate was awfully enamoured by her pretty blonde hair, more than butterflies," she emphasized. He smirked. "I simply had to make it look like he'd done something awful that she would never forgive him for."

"In those days, little white dresses stained with paint were a big deal," he confided, winking at her. A little shiver shot up her spine but she ignored it. She also narrowed her eyes at the memory of only a few months ago when one of her new Parisian dresses had gotten stained by some unruly substance in her room at the hotel. But her face cleared and she played along again, willing to amuse him.

"Right," she said, the sarcasm not fully dissipated from her face. "Because _then_ we didn't have bleach."

"No, I think we had it," he said, trying to sound very philosophical, "your maid just wasn't aware of it." Blair gasped, taking immediate offense.

"My Dorota has always kept up with the most upcoming technological modern devices, especially those that would come in handy for me," she paused, "or Serena." She nodded assuredly. He continued to smirk.

"If you say so."

She rolled her eyes and muttered something intelligible. He chuckled.

"I always made sure your dresses never got ruined," he said quietly, fighting the urge to drop his hands off the arms of the chair. Blair gasped quietly and watched him. The shiver that sped up her spine right then was impossible to ignore. He'd done it. He'd crossed that line from friendship to romance. The simple statement surely could be taken just as friendship, but it was so close to leading to him always making extra attempts to make her feel special that would lead straight into eventual romance and his ever constant butterflies for her – his Erickson Beamon necklace for her that was decorated with hearts and shiny silver, expressing his love as it shown in the sun.

"Yes," she said very quietly. Part of her told her that she should thank him for that precious bit of their childhood but she was afraid to say it. She was afraid of it all.

"Are you tired?" he asked. Her face contorted and she looked at him strangely. His face looked calm, surreal almost in how detached it was from the topic at hand.

"I am always tired," she said, confused. He looked at her very intensely, and she could feel the great desire in him to hold her hands again, to touch her. She could feel it. She just knew that the hatred, the desire for him to hurt her was gone. But she just couldn't let herself trust him again. She was so very afraid of what he could do.

"I didn't mean a word of it," he said, continuing before she could respond. "Everything I said to you, about you, about us." He sighed shakily, never breaking eye contact with her. "I didn't mean any of it. I have never for one day regretted us. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me."

A breath caught in her throat. "Then why…?"

"When I lost Eva, there was no chance of happiness. I was left with the constant truth that I could never have you again, not if I fought for you for an eternity, and especially if you didn't love me anymore." She swallowed hard. "Losing Eva, losing my new identity meant that I had to somehow grasp to something that would keep me connected to you, and our constant games, our torture of each other…" he sighed, trailing off. She closed her eyes in misery.

"It was your connection," she confirmed, understanding flooding through her. She didn't forgive him, wouldn't for that in a million years. She couldn't comprehend why anyone could ever forgive someone for someone like that. The fact that she'd forgiven him for the hotel incident when no one else would have forgiven that either just proved how unforgivable this torturous, heartless, extremely selfish act had been – no matter its intentions.

"Yes," he breathed.

Daringly, she reached for his hands again and held them. He looked up at her. "It's still not enough," she whispered, shaky tears seeping through her voice. He cried in front of her, the sobs that might have been cut loose on that bridge in the train station Paris finally reigning free.

"I can never forgive you for this," she said, shaking her head in pain, tears flying down her face. She leaned forward and they stood together holding to each other so fiercely they thought they would break. It was the tightest, most emotional, unending hug either of them had ever experienced, and they just knew with every fiber of their being that if they let go they would die.

"I can't _lose_ you," he breathed through continuous sobs, his breaths ever catching in his throat. Her instinct was to tell him that he'd already lost her, a million times over, but she could not bring herself to say it. Instead she held her head to his shoulder and threaded her fingers tenderly through his hair, gripping his scalp.

"I know," she sighed sadly, still crying albeit now a little quieter. "I know." Her heart pumped with the truth of I can't lose you either so strongly she thought there was no way she could keep herself from spurting it out of her mouth, from confessing her never-ending love for him despite the circumstances, despite the fact that they couldn't ever be together ever again, because all he did was hurt her and she wouldn't let herself be hurt. No matter what.

"Please…please…" he begged after awhile, both their breathing have calmed down, but tears still flowed and when she closed her eyes at his request more flooded out.

"Chuck—" She pulled her head back to see his face, brushing away the tears pouring down his flushed face from his hazel reddened eyes. She leaned her head against his forehead and swayed with him a little. "Shh," she said softly, begging him to be quiet in her gentle way.

"Let me lie with you," he begged quietly. She didn't look up at him in confusion, though she was certainly taken by surprise at his unusual request. Mostly because she knew it didn't involve sex whatsoever and was incredibly intimate. "You said you're always tired," he reminded her, his lazy voice nearly gone. He sighed long. "Let me lie with you," he whispered.

Another shiver rippled through her, but she nodded against him, dared to break the ever complete physical connection they'd made and lay down on the bed. He slipped off his shoes, and having already disposed of his jacket long ago, lie down on the bed beside her. His hand immediately draped across her waist and she pulled him to her by the front edges of his shirt. He kissed her forehead right at her hairline and she shivered again. He pulled the covers over them and within moments they were asleep.

…

They came later that day, around supper time to gather Blair. They'd gotten permission from her doctor there at the Ostroff Center, who in turn informed the receptionist on that floor that Miss Waldorf would be allowed out to a restaurant for that night, she had only to be watched carefully enough so that she would not purge sometime during the trip – no excessive meals and never going to the bathroom alone. Serena agreed to it and Nate added a few nods to confirm that he would do his best to prevent any _accidents_ from happening. Serena also snuck in _Breakfast at Tiffany's_ as a special retreat. She scolded herself on the way over for not thinking of it sooner.

Both felt extremely accomplished though in this special treat for Blair. She'd gone through so much because of Chuck and her heart was still broken. Serena couldn't understand it and she didn't know why Nate seemingly felt both sides of the story. Serena could see only one thing – torture for Blair. Nate had managed to voice some of his opinions on Chuck's 'backing off' but she didn't buy any of it. She had yet to see Chuck starting to change back into the man that had loved Blair so passionately. She missed that Chuck, even in her own life. She wondered sometimes if she were more depressed than Blair because she had to witness it all on the outside and could do nothing about it.

"She's going to ask about Chuck," Nate said. Serena slowed her steps and sighed. She nodded. The excitement built up in her had vanished in a heartbeat. The halls that looked so short for how fast they were going instantly felt like they were miles long. She swallowed hard.

"But, she might not," she offered up, turning her head to Nate for support. It looked like he wanted to accept that possibility, to take it into consideration, but he couldn't push the false thought on his face. As had been told him multiple times in the past, he was no great liar.

"You're right," Serena sighed. "If she doesn't ask, she'll be thinking it. She'll expect us to tell her something regarding him." She shook her head. "She always does." Nate wordlessly slipped his hand into hers and squeezed. She turned her face to look at him and smiled. He returned the gesture.

"Have you heard from him?" she asked. Nate shook his head.

"I haven't seen him all day. It's weird."

Serena laughed lightly. "Perhaps he's decided to do something productive with his life."

"No," Nate said very seriously. "I don't know what he could possibly be doing. He's pretty satisfied with his investments at the moment, and ever since Eva left, his only real goal has been…" he trailed off and Serena nearly stopped. "Well, you know." There was tension for a few unbearable moments before he continued. "But for the last two days, he hasn't even been locked up in his room. I can only hope he hasn't done damage to himself elsewhere." He sighed.

"Nate," she began, fully prepared to voice her objection to his concerns for Chuck again. But she was caught off guard by the sudden halt to Nate's feet. The action forced her to stop abruptly herself. She turned to Nate and was confused and a bit disturbed by the mesmerized expression on his face. She turned to where he was looking at noticed that they were right in front of the doorway leading into Blair's room. Her breath caught in her throat. She would not have to tell her best friend anything new about Chuck today after all. Blair was already well aware of his activities and whereabouts, at least from today.

Her first instinct was to stomp into that room, pry Chuck away from Blair, push him out of the building and then scream at him for even thinking of coming so near to her best friend. But Nate's arm came out to stop her before she could even take the first step. Her flushed face smoothed over then and common sense took over. She turned to him and he pulled back his arm.

"What do we do?" she whispered, suddenly feeling like if she made the smallest sound she'd wake up the whole earth. Nate turned to her and then looked back at the two brunettes sleeping on the bed. He sighed.

"Leave them," he said.

"What?" she asked, confused and a little shocked. Then she remembered his bias towards his best friend. "Okay, look, I know you've got some sympathy for Chuck." She scoffed. "But he shouldn't be allowed to be this close to her, not yet at least. He could take advantage of her at any moment!" She nearly shrieked. Then she realized her voice had risen and she pursed her lips tightly. Nate would have laughed at her mannerisms if he hadn't felt so suddenly protective over his best friend.

"I know this is hard for you to comprehend," he began, his eyes so dark she was almost afraid of him. "But Chuck is changing back to who he was before – the good guy, the one that no one would have to question was madly in love with Blair." Serena didn't say a word. "Besides—" He stopped talking, hearing a slight twisting of sheets from inside the room. Both blondes looked over.

Blair's eyes opened and she blinked at the two of them standing in the doorway. She didn't seem to be desperately needing to cover up the boy who slept beside her. In fact, by the expression on her face, it almost looked like he was supposed to be there and she was just wondering why _they_ had woken her up. A soft, gentle knowing expression filled her face and rested in her eyes then. Nate and Serena relaxed as they watched their best friend close her eyes again and tuck herself more snugly into the bed's comforting warmth – closer to Chuck. She pulled him closer, and he instinctively tucked her into him more in his sleep.

Serena stared on at the two of them until she could not see them anymore because Nate had closed the door. Serena looked down at Breakfast at Tiffany's lying in her hands hopelessly. Nate squeezed her shoulder and then turned her away. She didn't say anything – _couldn't_,was still in_ shock_.

"He's changing, Serena," Nate told her when they were halfway down the hall. "I know you can't see it, but he's changing. He still loves her, and he's going to fix it. He promised."

In the back of her mind she wondered when Chuck had made such a promise, and who in fact had he made it to – Nate, Blair, in his mind and Nate had somehow guessed, to some bartender or a worthless whore? She knew it was no time to argue though. She was still adjusting to the shock of seeing the two warring brunettes in bed together, and just sleeping too. Plus, her blonde best friend spoke with such certainty that she almost felt no right to contradict him. _Maybe Chuck did love Blair_, she thought. Maybe that part of him wasn't completely gone.

…

A/N: Epilogue to come – I promise it'll be a little more…_less_ depressing, lol. Please review. I hope you've enjoyed. You've all been such a wonderful, joyful blessing to me. I hope at least some of you continue with me to my other stories. ;p


	12. Epilogue

A/N: Omg. Am I gonna be able to actually legit finish this story before the episode? *humungous gaspage* Let's hope so! *cheers for possibilities* Though, I am still trying to calm down from seeing the freaking amazing Canadian 4x07 promo where the CB hate-sex is in fact included! *giggle-squeal* But, *clears throat* back to this story. Lol. I just have to thank all of you SO much for all the amazing wonderful squeal-worthy reviews I've gotten from you. You have seriously made my life. I've never had this good of a response from any of my other stories. Ever. So, thank-you for that. I hope some of you will follow me to my other stories. =)

*I own nothing. No copyright infringement intended.

(Oh, & let's just…for all intents and purposes say that Blair's b-day was farther off than the time span would have allowed thus far in my story XD)

…

**Epilogue— **

One month later, amidst a room of balloons, music, colors and the finest Upper East Side guests, Chuck stood watching Blair Waldorf from across the room. She was completely enamoured by the entire scene, gushing to a minority of people and bitching to the rest. Still, everyone no doubt felt beyond honored to be at Blair Waldorf's 20th birthday party. He smirked softly, taken in to a whole 'nother level by the glow that seemed to radiate off of her and to every person spread throughout the room.

He leaned back on the banister of the wide open terrace. It did not escape his memory that it was a similar set-up to how things had been on the eve of her seventeenth birthday. Only this time he would not admit to having butterflies for her and she could not shoot him down for being the bad boy with feelings. A punch spiked in his gut when he remembered how he'd hurt her the month before for too long, or even at all. It succeeded any 'bad boy' behavior he'd had before that all growing up. Even sleeping with Jenny Humphrey hadn't been that bad. It hadn't caused her to relapse at the very least. Half the time he wanted to murder himself for what he'd done to her. But her pleading when he nearly jumped off the rooftop of Victrola two years earlier ever rang through his ears whenever the thoughts came close. Her insistence on wanting to know if he ever was seriously injured at the train station in Paris also gave him the support he needed to hold his ground. And as much as he just wanted to tell himself it was fine to go through with it because things had changed, too much had happened, he couldn't do it. He'd gotten close a couple weeks earlier and even Serena Van der Woodsen _herself_ had stopped him, saying that Blair wasn't strong right now and she _needed_ him to be strong for her. That was enough to make him stop punishing himself for good. It wouldn't help her at all if he was just stuck in self-hatred for the rest of eternity, regardless of anything else good that he had done.

For the last month he'd come to the Ostroff Center every day to visit her. Every day he'd brought her flowers, brochures for the various classes she could take at Columbia – which she'd promptly decided to start back up again in the spring – and gone out and bought every single thing on her wish list. There were times when she'd ignore him completely. She'd also yell at him from time to time about how he'd hurt her and how she shouldn't even allow him to be near her. But in the end, miraculously she found cuddling up with him to be more soothing than Serena hanging with her every single day. It took awhile for Serena to adjust to the situation, but for the most part Nate kept her busy. Because what was most important was that Blair recover from her recent relapse. It was hard, and she managed to jinx the system every few days and get away with purging in the bathroom assigned to her. But the incidents had become less and fewer as the weeks went on. In the last week before her birthday she'd only purged once, and when it happened Chuck arrived on the scene right in time to hold her hair back and cool her face with a wet washcloth when she was finished.

In that moment he'd almost told her he still loved her. He knew she needed to hear it, he just didn't know if she'd accept it. She was still very adamant about not forgiving him and that stabbed his heart every single day when she reminded him, because every single day he would try whatever he could to win her forgiveness. He managed to keep her institution into the Ostroff Center a secret even from Gossip Girl, and even when Harold, Roman, Eleanor and Cyrus finally broke through the borders and demanded entrance to see her, it did not go past those doors. Jenny didn't come over with them either. In fact, despite how guilty she still felt over what had happened between them, Chuck was as fiercely protective as ever of Blair. Even if the little bleach blonde didn't intend to antagonize her, there was no way she was going to be allowed entrance to the great U.S. Not if he had anything to say about, not until Blair had been healed for a long time and had somehow come to the conclusion that Jenny Humphrey being in the same country was not the most horrid thing to have happened.

Chuck told Blair he was sorry every day. Surprisingly, she did not tire of it, because every day she told him she could never forgive him. He got a masseuse brought in for her and tried to suppress his jealous at the fact that this _strange man_ got to touch _his_ beautiful Blair practically everywhere when he wasn't even _involved_ with her! These were the times when he would temporarily leave the room, call Nate, and vent. It amused his best friend immensely, and over time it even made Serena chuckle.

It was the little things, they began to realize. Bringing her gifts, reminding her how beautiful she was, doing whatever she wanted of him… It made his heart beat faster when she never requested he leave. Not even for the night. She didn't say a word when he set up camp on a _cot_ next to her bed and didn't even bring scotch with him. In fact, he hardly left the room period except to take her out on the occasional walk or a nice smooth drive in his limo to a fancy restaurant or a classic play. He'd smoothly gotten away with it despite the rules the Ostroff Center stood by. Money was everything in situations like that, and no harm was done in the end, so the staff there pretended they were _barely_ okay with it. _As if they weren't jumping up and down and throwing a party when he'd left_, he thought_. _He'd still had enough in him to support a few charities again, just different ones this time – and for the time being that was the Ostroff Center's greatest blessing.

"You look beautiful," he said when she found her way through the crowded room of people to the beautiful terrace overlooking the city. She shook her head, smiling.

"You say that every day."

"I _mean_ it every day," he said softly, laying his hand on hers clasped on the railing. She turned to him and smiled. She did not shiver with the fear of getting hurt when he touched her anymore. True she'd been reconsidering their first sleep together incident the morning after, but he'd pampered her so much since then, been so genuine, so kind, and yet so completely Chuck Bass that she could have sworn her heart started to flutter again. The fluttering blocked out almost all the fear that resided inside her. It was lessening more by the day, and she knew that if this type of behavior continued in him and perhaps became permanent, that she'd rely on him more completely and would never feel the need to stiffen in her presence or prepare for a long ago ended war.

"How's your party going?" he asked, inclining his head towards the room full of people. She smiled and nodded a little, acknowledging the noise behind her.

"It's good." She lifted her head to see his sparkling eyes warming her stomach. "Great, in fact. But…" He frowned, already distressed at the possibility that something might have caused her mood to dim. "I wish you were in there with us." He relaxed visibly.

"I like it out there. It's…"

"…near the roof," she finished, the teasing smirk reaching her eyes. The expression reflected on his face.

"Yes," he said. "Plus," He leaned his body flat against the rail behind them, holding the glass of champagne in one hand. "I knew you'd come find me eventually." He winked. She raised her eyebrows in a flirty, teasing gesture.

"Did you?"

"Mm," he continued, nodding. "You can't resist me, you see."

She laughed. "What makes you think that?" she challenged. For half a second she lost her breath at the thought of him kissing her to prove his point. She still loved him, but was convinced she couldn't forgive him, not yet at least. He'd done so much good since he'd abandoned the war that caused her relapse. But it wasn't enough. Not yet.

He turned to her again. "I have a present for you."

Her heart stopped, fleeting images of her seventeenth birthday party racing through her mind, of Nate not showing up, of receiving Chuck's Erickson Beaming necklace for her, of sleeping with him _again_ and feeling lost in some sort of dream, of it being the perfect end to a hazardous night.

She watched him cautiously as he set his glass on the banister, dug in his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box. Her stopped heart dropped into her stomach and her eyes widened. She had specifically told him she'd never forgive him – countless times in fact. And she had never once given any verbal evidence that she still loved him. _Was he picking up on signs she didn't think she'd been showing? Or was he just so cocky he thought he'd give his proposal another whirl?_

"I'm not proposing. Don't worry," he said easily, smirking. She laughed a little nervously but forced herself to stay focus and not start crying. Something inside her just screamed this was a monumental moment and she didn't know if she was supposed to allow it or not.

"Well, you're obviously doing _something_ if you haven't given me my present yet," she said plainly. His eyes glittered as his smile spread farther across his face. It was beginning to annoy her.

He took a deep breath, bracing himself. She saw very well how he was trying to gather his courage and it made her even more nervous. If he wasn't proposing, what _was_ he doing? He looked up at her, staring adoringly, intently into her deep brown eyes.

"I know you think you can't forgive me," he began. She closed her eyes, telling herself she should have seen this coming. There was not a single day that went by that he didn't try to earn his forgiveness. At one point he'd nearly sold the Empire to Jack in Australia because he'd thought that type of anguish would make her happy. She wasn't heartless though. _That_ was going too far, and for _her_ there'd always been limits. She'd nearly had a heart attack during the five seconds when he decided to reconsider it due to her pleas.

"Chuck—"

"Just hear me out," he begged. She opened her eyes, just in time to see him open the small velvet box displaying a simple silver ring. She stared at it with wonder. It wasn't an engagement ring and there was nothing engraved on it, so it wasn't a promise ring either – at least, she thought she wasn't.

"Uh…okay," she said finally, still in shock by the fact that he actually _wasn't_ proposing, since all signs were pointing to a yes. She looked up at him. "What does this mean?"

He cleared his throat. "It's a potential promise." _Ah_, she thought. _So, it was a promise ring_.

"Potential?" she asked, skeptical. He nodded once.

"Yes." He took the ring out of its box, tucked the box back into his pocket and held the ring out to her on his palm. "You can choose to take it or refuse it, but if you don't take it I'm going to keep it with me until you do," he said determinedly.

"Chu—" Her brows furrowed, confused.

"That's why it's potential. You don't have to take it, but I really hope you will." His voice sounded raspy. She looked back and forth between his desperate, longing gaze and the sparkling simple silver ring.

"What…" she began hesitantly. "Would I be promising?"

He took a deep breath. "It would be foolish of me to think you might even consider promising me your future long again." She looked at him intensely, feeling suddenly very hot. She wondered if he knew. "Anything's possible between us, and I think you know that, but it would still be stupid of me to ask that of you at this point." She swallowed hard and he took another deep breath. "So, instead, if you take this ring, you'll be promising me that over time you will try to find it in you to forgive me."

She looked down at the ring again.

"You will try not to hate me."

Her face fell.

"And, above everything else, you will try more than anything to stop hurting yourself, because…" His breaths slowed. "Because, I _love_ you, and I can't bear to see you hurt anymore." He watched her intently, searching out a specific emotion. "You need this," he told her. "You need this for _you_."

Her eyes filled with tears when she looked up to him right then. His hazel eyes were brimming with a similar emotion and she couldn't quite recall if she was still breathing. She gasped then, needing to say something, but the words wouldn't come. She was swept up in the moment and how selfishly unselfish his request was. She pursed her lips tightly and started to nod, reaching for the ring he displayed to her. It seemed like it was from heaven now, too perfect to be real. He pulled his hand back a little and she halted, waiting as he slipped the silvery ring on her engagement finger. Her eyes flitted up to his but she said nothing that would make him change the placement of the ring.

"I promise," she breathed. Then, taking a step forward she lightly grasped the back of his neck and placed a single, soft, simple kiss on his lips. All air escaped him then. She opened her eyes before pulling away, wondering how it was possible to be so close to another human being. "I promise," she repeated, leaning her forehead against his. "Thank-you," she said, and then pulled away.

Their hands were clasped together but slowly released as she moved back across the terrace to find herself back to the party, seeking out Serena before anyone else as was per usual. Chuck picked up his champagne glass and dumped the contents over the railing, not needing the liquid to sustain him any further. His lips still tingled from her touch and when he touched them delicately he smiled. The plan had worked. He had known it would from the very beginning, all along he'd known it'd only be a matter of time. _She would forgive him_.

It was in the gaze of love he caught from her inside the room.

…

A/N: Hope it wasn't too disappointing. ;p Thanks again so much for all your wonderful, wonderful, wonderful support! =D hehe. Now, on to the episode! =D


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